


All That Tomorrow Brings

by YourFavoriteRobot



Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man: Armored Adventures, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourFavoriteRobot/pseuds/YourFavoriteRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain America is a seventeen year old Tony Stark's idol. Steve Rogers is his art history teacher. </p><p>(Set in Iron Man: Armored Adventures 'verse but should be accessible as a high school AU to anyone who hasn't seen it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A bell rang sharply, sounding through the rooms of the beautifully restored red brick building and cutting Steve off in the middle of a sentence.

In another life Steve was Captain Rogers, a man who commanded respect and led by heroic example. In another time he and his men, his friends, saved the world every day. But here he was just Steve, Mr. Rogers. His friends were gone and, at least today, no one much seemed to care about what he had to say.

All through the class the kids had dutifully taken their notes and a few even raised their hands, getting into the discussion of impressionist painters. Most of them just jotted down the names and dates that might be on a test and did little more than glance at the paintings. Even when the bell rang they all kept their seats, waiting to be dismissed but stuffing what they could in their bags as quietly as possible.

Steve’s mouth turned into a hard line as he looked at them all. He heaved his shoulders and tried not to sigh too audibly. “Dismissed,” he barked and then added a gentler, “we can finish up next week.”

It was hard to get used to things, but not in a practical sense, never in any way he could put a finger on how to fix. From day one, just over a year ago, SHIELD had taken care of his every physical need. They said it was the least they could do; he was Captain America and he had saved the world. These days he hated when they said that, whispered it when he walked by or spoke about him like he was something from a story book. It made him feel like he wasn’t real anymore. But he couldn’t really see complaining about it. They were just being nice.

They gave him a place to live, furnished with everything he needed down to a closet full of clothes and a pair of boots. They paid his bills, set him up with a generous stipend to live on (more than he knew what to do with). They even had a very nice girl sit down with him and teach him how to use the laptop and phone he was given. She was very patient with him and told him that he picked it all up very quickly.

When he told them that he wanted to go back on active duty, that he felt useless sitting around, they explained that, as things were, he could do the most good on American soil. But they let him have his shield back and he got to put on the costume and fight the big bullies when they stirred up trouble. That much made him happy enough.

When he told them that he wanted to go back to art school, to have something to fill up his days, they made that happen too. He really enjoyed that, learning, getting better at something he loved, having assignments, things to do. Being with people who he supposed were about his own age felt like it should have been what he needed. But anyone his own age was always in another way almost a century younger than him and he never felt quite up to bridging the gap.

He wasn’t what you would call shy, certainly not when it came to his job, but it was his friend Bucky who had always been the charmer, not him. Lord, he missed Bucky, now more than ever. He wished he had his oldest friend to explore this new world with. Steve could handle wars with super Nazis and the impending end of the world, but rebuilding a life from the ground up was proving to be something else altogether, something he thought his old friend would have been much better at.

Whenever there was no one else around, Steve would become almost consumed with missing everything and everyone he knew. But it wasn’t as though anyone could do anything about it. He spent most of his free time in the gym working his body hard enough that his head shut up for awhile. And he read a lot; the laptop was great for that. Didn’t even need a reading light any more. He supposed that all in all he was fine.

When he asked if he could do some volunteer work, teaching kids about art, once again SHIELD made it happen. But that hadn’t really worked out; he thought he would get to go somewhere he was needed. Some underfunded little school in Brooklyn, some place where the kids needed to see there were beautiful things in the world.

Where SHIELD sent him-- the only place that met all the security requirements-- was about as far away from that as could he could imagine. They planted him down as a student teacher at The Tomorrow Academy, a place filled with the best and the brightest and more importantly, to them anyway, the offspring of the richest. The sons and daughters of the world’s most cunning lawyers, powerful businessmen and most important agents and officials. Kids who might have grown up with originals of the paintings in his books on their walls, passing by them every day without sparing more than a glance.

He would give it another day at the Academy–it wasn’t in his nature to throw in the towel--but he wasn’t a chump. He wasn’t doing anything that they couldn't pay someone else to do, all he was doing was saving some billionaires a few dollars. Not really his idea of giving back. Between his own school work and the--”specialized” was the word they liked to use in the reports that nearly put him to sleep reading--work he was doing for SHIELD, it wasn’t as though his schedule wasn’t full. He’d wanted to help, but not for nothing. He wasn’t going the waste his time where he wasn’t needed.

Steve flipped through the papers he had ready for the next day. The class that had just been dismissed was the advanced one. Tomorrow he had the remedial, kids with poor or erratic performance in history. He took a glance down at the class roster.

“Oh,” he said aloud to no one, and traced a finger under a familiar name.

\---

Art history was, without a nanometer of exaggeration, the most boring subject to ever be forced upon a human being, as though the very idea of Tony Stark being _remedial_ at anything wasn't enough of an insult.

It wasn’t that Tony didn’t have a fair amount of respect for aesthetics. His dad taught him early on that when a consumer looked at a product, 90% of what sold them was how it looked but 100% of what brought them back to your company was how it worked. You could never let either side of the equation slide or you would be in trouble.

So Tony appreciated design, the elegant symbolism of a well crafted logo or the bold curves of a car’s body that spoke to the strength and speed under the hood.But that had nothing to do with sitting in a classroom on a drizzling grey day when he could be in his lab working instead of looking at blotchy smudges that were supposed to be a cafe.

Pepper and Rhodey, having the luxury of time to do their homework more than a couple of days a week, were in the other class. So for the next hour or so all Tony had to keep him occupied where the schematics he was sketching in the corner of his notes--okay corner was generous, there were really no notes at all to speak of.

At least the new teacher was nice to look at; tall, young, blond and fit, all excited and intense as he talked about some dead Dutch guy and his brush strokes. He seemed to care a lot about it. Tony guessed someone should, as the rest of the class seemed to share Tony’s own level of enthusiasm about the subject.

It looked like the teacher must be really built under that dorky plaid shirt. Tony’s mind wandered further down; this was totally fine, Tony assured himself as he constructed an image of his teacher naked. Anatomy study, that was totally an art thing.

The class passed quickly enough, switching between a little technical daydreaming on paper and a few little naughty student fantasies in his head. He was in the middle of a swing towards the former so didn’t notice when Mr. Rogers walked up to his desk and looked down at Tony’s notes.

“Tony, please stay after class. I need to talk to you.”

Oh hell, did that actually happen outside of his brain, Tony wondered, snapping up his head suddenly. Hot teacher was in fact standing by his desk looking down at Tony as though he had just said something that expected an answer, so probably, yep.

Tony mutely nodded and reminded himself that mind readers were actually very rare and it probably wasn’t anything like that. Frankly, he just wasn’t that lucky these days.

\---

“Mr. Rogers...”

“I said Steve was fine. I’m only a few years older than you.” He laughed in that weird way people did when nothing was actually funny. “And you’re not in trouble, really. I just wanted to talk to you about what you were working on.”

Panic. Lots of panic, Super epic panic, Pepper would say. What had he been working on? Repulsor tech? New armor designs--hell, had he just been writing “I am Iron Man” over and over? He had to stop being so careless.

Still, this guy couldn’t possibly know what he was looking at. He was an art teacher. A hot one-- not the time for that--but then again, Tony couldn’t be sure. Stane or Hammer or even SHIELD could have planted anyone here to keep an eye on him. They may not have known that Tony was Iron Man but he was still Tony Stark, and there were still people in the world who looked at his head like an egg to be cracked open and drained of the goods within. Looking like an overgrown labrador with big blue eyes didn’t preclude a guy from corporate espionage.

“Tony?”

“Huh?” He snapped back to attention. “Sorry, I just, what about them, Mr.--er, Steve?”

Steve smiled openly and Tony really hoped it wasn’t a trap, because that was a nice smile and he didn’t want it to be hiding something horrible. “I meant it, Stark, you’re not in trouble. Your work is good, that’s all.”

“Oh, what?” Tony thought that for the first time he might actually feel a little humble. He didn’t like it. “They're just schematics, just techy stuff. Not art.”

“Art isn’t just paintings by dead people with hard to pronounce names. You’re good. You have a great quality to your lines, good control that only comes from practice. You must really care about what you’re drawing.” Tony was starting to feel a funny sort of twist in his chest. He wondered if his heart was malfunctioning. Maybe this was a trap after all and Steve had some sort of device in his back pocket to--ugh no, that was stupid, and he couldn’t have fit anything in to his back pocket with how tight his trousers stretched across his ass. Bad train of thought; reroute.

Tony looked up at Steve who was looking down at the drawings with great approval clear on his face. Blue eyes shifted from the page to meet Tony’s. Oh yeah, this was a trap, worse even than he had imagined.

“Well, thanks, Mr-- Steve,” God, he really needed to stop doing that. Steve just smiled and failed at smothering a little chuckle. Damn it, Tony, stop staring at him, get it together, he mentally slapped himself. “Um, if that’s all, should I just...” He thumbed at the door, already shifting his weight to stand.

“Not quite.” Tony sat back down heavily. So close. “I wanted to give you a chance to do something else instead of the history paper.” Tony perked up. For a beautiful instant, pay-per-download scenarios that he was too young to have seen played out through his head. He was gaping like a fish. Steve stared at him, face all confusion and concern and Tony thought he should really try to say something.

“Uh, yeah?” Good job, genius.

“Yeah,” Steve blinked and shook his head before handing back Tony’s papers. “Just go find yourself an artist you like –it can be a painter, or a comic book artist or some one who designs cars–just find someone who you like and write me a page on what they do. Sound fair?”  
A huge smile broke over Tony’s face. This might not be as good as what he had been hoping for--was he hoping for that to actually happen, well yeah, he guessed he was, he’d have to think more on that later-- but getting to swap out writing a history paper for writing about concept cars was a close second.

“Thanks, Mr. Steve.” He smiled; might as well just go with it.

 

\---

 

“Seriously unfair man.” Rhodey flopped back into one of the loungers beside Pepper. She had a book and notebook balanced on her knees and a pencil in her hair, hard at work at her own paper–the assigned one, which she was visibly bitter about having to do since Tony told them about his little deal.

“Hey, I didn’t ask to be so artistically gifted.” Tony expected the feeling of something hitting the back of his head. Wadded up piece of paper, he’d guessed pencil. This was better. Less pointy.

Both boys laughed but Pepper was still unamused. “I just wish you would have said something _before_ we left school. I could have asked Mr. Rogers if I could write something on Barnett Newman, I reeeally love his stuff. Do you think I could call him? He might have a number on the school site, most of the teachers do. He’s only a student teacher though, and new, so maybe not. I bet he is listed, everyone is listed _somewhere_ ”

She’d started to get that dangerous look in her eye. Tony figured he better intervene on Steve's behalf before Pepper had the CIA breaking down the poor guy's door.

“Leave it alone Pep, I doubt he wants to be bothered at home.” She folded her arms over her chest and gave a perfect pout/glare combo. Tony turned back to the tablet in his hand and added a few more notes to his outline.

“Hey, I thought you two would be happy that I was showing some interest in school for once.”

Pepper wasn't amused, “maybe, but we do have other things to work on too you know, so you might want to stop making eyes at the cars and think about doing some of your other homework.”

“Don’t need to. Not now anyway. Physics is locked down. I can get by fine on test scores and labs and keep an 87% average. Math’s about the same. Trouble with the other stuff is that I don’t actually know some of what is being taught, so I can’t always count on an A for the tests.”

Tony had worked out the math on it all when he realized that he had to keep his grades up or lose his stake in Stark Industries. He knew exactly how much he had to do in each class to not get in any serious trouble. He needed to turn this one in and the other stuff could slide; besides, he wanted to do it. He loved this sort of thing, and Steve had cut him a break. Tony didn’t want to let him down.

Tony looked up again to see two annoyed expressions. Apparently complaining about actually having to learn things at school wasn’t going to get him any sympathy.

“Is it just me or is he more obnoxious than usual today?” Pepper turned to Rhodey.

“Oh it’s not just you. When I came in he was singing a love song to a picture of a Porsche. Something’s going on for sure.”

“Yep, he's cracked. Tony, can I have your comics when they cart you away? You know, just until you get better. If you get better.”

“Thanks, guys. I can’t be in a good mood? And Rhodey, there is a huge and very important difference between a love song and a rock anthem.”

“I still don’t think it’s too likely that the Cabriolet is going to shake you all night long.”

“Even if I ask her real nice?”

And there came the pencil. Pointy.

“Hey, watch where you throw, if you put my eye out who's going to defend the city?”

“Me.” Rhodey raised his hand and only gave the smallest hint of a smile.

“Still waiting on _my_ suit, but I guess I wouldn’t mind borrowing yours.” Pepper grinned.

Tony frowned for a moment, but then, cracking at last, they all broke into laughter that filled up the enormous empty hangar all the way to the ceiling.

 

\---

 

Steve’s apartment was much bigger than he imagined he needed. The house he grew up in was small and cozy, the place he shared with Bucky and the other guys while he was in school was much smaller than that, and after joining the Army, he became used to even more cramped and crowded sleeping quarters. He might have been a big guy, but he didn’t take up a whole lot of space.

For weeks after he’d woken up, the apartment stayed mostly in the state it had been when Steve received it. He dutifully kept it clean and tidy--so much so that to anyone else it would have looked as if no one lived there at all.

One day walking home, sacks of groceries in his arms, he passed by a shop with posters in the window. A familiar girl looked out at him just as he remembered her, sleeve rolled up and arm bared, proclaiming proudly 'We Can Do It!'

When he got home he tacked the old--vintage, they had called it--war poster up and stared at Rosie for a minute or two. He figured this was it now, this apartment and this life, so he might as well make the best of it.

Nowadays, Steve still kept the place fairly spotless, but there were some signs of life. Sketchbooks next to the sofa. A couple of model planes sitting high on a shelf. A drafting table and easel in what was probably meant to be a dinning room, but had good enough light to make a studio. Shelves full of books, including some of his old favorites that he had replaced now and then when he could find them. A few newer ones too, but he still loved the old ones best. Somehow nothing could ever beat a dime novel adventure.

But there were no photos; he’d made a conscious decision to keep the few he had put away. As much as he loved them all, he didn’t think he could make it through the days with lost friends smiling out at him from behind frames, always close but impossible to reach.

So when Steve had come home after class, he hopped up the stairs two at a time with one aim fixed in his mind. Coming in the door, he threw his bag to the floor and headed straight to his bedroom closet to pull out a white cardboard storage box. The box bore a 16-digit filing number and a bright red [DECLASSIFIED] stamp on its front.

Steve carried it to the front room where he sat on the floor, leaned back against his sofa, and spread the contents around him onto the carpet until he was surrounded by the patchwork remains of his former life. Old documents, awards and medals, typed-up letters of congratulation from officials, handwritten letters of thanks from mothers and daughters. And all the faces he would never need a picture to remember. He didn’t let himself dwell on any of it, too focused on finding what he was after.

A snapshot of himself and the smartest guy he ever knew, standing up on his toes to get an arm around Steve’s shoulder while he hosted a drink in cheers to the cameraman and grinned in a way that always made Steve worry a bit, though he never knew quite why.

Issac Stark, Tony’s grandfather.

It was clear to see the mark Stark had left on the world, literally; Steve hadn’t been awake a week before noticing the name stamped on everything from toasters to the little phones everyone carried around. One of the first things he’d asked about when they’d revived him was his friends, and he had learned that Issac was gone and the mantle had passed to his son, Howard.

Howard--who Steve remembered as nothing more than an excited announcement by way of telegram--he soon after learned was dead as well. Steve had heard about the accident with the plane. It had happened only a few weeks before he’d woken up, so by the time he’d been debriefed enough to be allowed to look at anything that wasn’t a SHIELD document, it was still in the papers, if not on the front page.

He still remembered seeing the article in the business section: someones opinion on how the corporation was doing under new management, and only a brief note at the end about Stark Industries' former owner’s passing. Steve’s heart had twisted when he read it. Howard Stark’s life had played itself out in the time he lay frozen under an ocean. A child he never saw born. A man he never saw live.

But then there was Tony, out of nowhere, and he was so much like Issac. That same sort of energy that a guy couldn’t help but get swept up in. That same crooked smile that made it seem like trouble was probably hot on his heels.

Steve leaned heavily against the sofa, letting his head fall back on the cushions. He stared up at the ceiling, at nothing, unable to put a finger on what exactly he was feeling. All he knew was that it hurt, deep, like nothing else he had felt since he woke into a world that was too bright and too fast, and that he wanted more of it.


	2. Chapter 2

Iron Man rolled mid-flight, turning out of the way of another blast. Power was low and he was getting battered. Shots were coming in clumsy but fast and from all angles. Tony had been at this long enough now to know that sometimes the bad shots were worse than the good ones. Someone who could aim could be predicted, but these people were shooting wildly and Tony had no way to guess where the next blast would be.

A good hit got him and sent him down again to the ground. Another shot flew past his head and while it never stood much hope of hitting him, it did enough damage to a metal girder to send a large piece of machinery--Tony had a split second to identify it as a crane--crashing down on him.

Everything went eerily still waiting for the OS to reboot from the painfully literal crash.

\---

Tonight wasn’t supposed to be a mission night. Tonight was supposed to be movies and pizza and as little work on a group project as he, Rhodey and Pepper could manage. Tony had learned that ‘Supposed To’ rarely had any bearing on his plans these days.

There was a time not too long ago when he could walk by people on the street and not be so acutely aware of what they were up to. In fact he used to be so focused and in his own world, the world of Stark International, his father’s world, that hardly anything else existed to him. There were no peripherals in his life.

Sure, there were parties and film premieres and people who were the son or daughter of _someone_ who would happily call him a friend when the press came around and the social calendar allowed, but mostly it was just work for SI and a few hours a day with tutors. There was Rhodey, who was the only person Tony would have reciprocated in calling a friend (and whose mother had taught him the words “no comment” since they started having play dates, so the reporters never bothered) but the most important thing was finishing his projects.

Only it wasn’t. The most important thing had been seeing his dad smile down at him, telling him he had done well.

Now the most important thing was Iron Man, and while he’d learned how important having good people on your side could be, at the end of the day it always came back to the suit and the feeling that he had something to prove.

So when he saw the clear signs of a Maggia deal going down, it wasn’t anything like a choice. Running down the alleyway as he activated the backpack armor, Tony was sure this would be a quick one. Small time weapons deal, maybe drugs. Either way, mobsters with handguns just didn’t seem to stir up much fear after facing off against Doctor Doom, even if Tony couldn’t exactly tally that one in the win column. The still-alive column was still a good place to be.

The helmet clamped shut and the suit’s HUD lit up with its warm amber light before his eyes. And suddenly Tony Stark was more--he was Iron Man, and he had a job to do. An instant later he was high in the air following a car full of bad people on their way to pick up some bad stuff. Iron Man followed them down to the docks and hovered watchfully above them as two men and a briefcase full of money exited the car.

This part always felt good. Knowing that Iron Man was going to fly in, fire off some quips and repulsors, and things would be better for him having been there. The part right before being scared for his life, feeling in over his head, almost dying and then nursing bruises and wondering if it really made any difference. Yeah, it was always best at the top of the show.

He was about to descend, repulsor blast to distract them, turn on the forcefields, call in the cops and call it a night--when Pepper’s voice came in on the comm-line rerouted from his phone.

“Tony, where are you? We’ve been waiting half-an-hour.”

“Go on and start the movie without me, something came up,” he answered.

“Something red and gold and shiny?”

“Got it in one. Some Maggia guys up to something. Looks small time, just thought I’d help clean up.”

Rhodey’s voice came in over the channel.

“You need a hand? I’m looking for any reason to get out of watching... What is this, Godzilla vs Mothra? When was this made, the dark ages?”

Tony laughed at the sounds of a scuffle and muffled bickering. “Nah, I got this. I’ll be home before Tokyo is destroyed.”

“Are you sure? We’re over at Pepper’s house so if things turn ugly then--”

“It’s fine Rhodey, I can handle it. Gotta go. Hero stuff.” Tony ended the call before his friend could protest.

 

Things degraded faster than usual.

Data from his scan flashed up on the HUD and it made no sort of sense. There were the two from the car with small firearms, plus the three nondescript men in nondescript suits that they were meeting--they had a little more firepower, but nothing that would make the cover of Scientific American. That was it, nothing else of interest or value was detected.

Tony focused the audio amplifier. They _were_ making a deal. And it sounded like it should have been weapons from the talk. It was all pretty circumspect, but there was mention of explosive yield and that couldn’t have been much else.

Then one of the three sellers walked to a large shipping crate. Tony was running a deeper scan on it before the man’s hand touched the lock. There was a heavy lining shielding the contents, some weird compounds throwing off the suit’s sensors. They were still scrambling for data as the man flung open the doors and a herd of people–men and women, all in rags and half dazed–began shuffling out of the crate onto the dock.

“What the-- people, there are---Why are there people in there?” There was no good answer to that. Human trafficking was a new low for these guys and not one Tony was going to leave them in a mind to repeat. There were still questions nagging, sums in his head that didn’t quite balance but he was too angry to think straight. Whatever it was could be sorted out after he had kicked some Maggia ass into another time zone and helped those people down there.

“All right, party’s over.” A well placed repulsor blast forced the man who had opened the crate away from the crowd as Iron Man shot down from the sky, looming overhead like impending hell. The two from the car he had followed fired off full rounds at him in a panic. The ones that managed to hit hardly even scratched the paint.

“Done yet? My turn now.” A low force blast left them sprawling on their backs. He’d radio for the police and then-- but the other three still hadn’t made a move.

Then one of them smiled. Tony knew that whatever came next was not going to be good.

“Get him, get the Iron Man!” the man shouted and then ran for the car. Tony scanned looking for a threat. Then the mass of people turned to him, sensors read an energy buildup and the crowd surged.

Energy blasts shot out wildly from the crowd. Tony watched in wide-eyed horror. There were no weapons, no tech on them that the suit could detect; the blasts were coming straight from their hands which, like their open screaming mouths glowed with a burning red light from within. At first they were so clustered that their own shots almost halved their number, the beams cutting through the crowd in front of them as they all tried to get at Iron Man.

Tony thought he was going to be sick. Watching it all unfold from from inside the suit, he could almost disassociate, imagine it was a horror film playing out on a screen. But it was vividly real, and they were still coming for him. The ones in back surged forward over the bodies of their fallen companions without a moment’s hesitation. There were more than a dozen left of the crowd still up and moving–still firing at him in chaotic bursts, making it impossible for him to escape.

Calling for help didn't even cross his mind. This was the last thing on Earth he would want anyone else to see: people, just people, no mech suits and no guns. They didn’t even look like they really knew what they were doing, wandering in a half-daze and shooting wildly. He wished he could wipe it from his own mind; putting it in Rhodey’s or Pepper’s was out of the question. So he bobbed and weaved and ducked and twisted himself out of the way for as long as he could.

Non-lethal weaponry didn’t phase them for a moment; they would pull themselves up and carry on without hesitation. Trying to knock them out or subdue them was hopeless. There were too many and with as spread out as they had become, the force fields wouldn’t hold them all.

Tony couldn't run, even if he had been able; he couldn't just leave this, and he wondered for one horrible second if he would be willing to kill them. The answer was clear: he couldn’t for himself, but then he thought past the current situation. If these people got out into the city, if they did whatever it was they were meant to do before who ever was controlling them aimed them at Iron Man, would he be able to kill them to stop that?

When the crane fell it was almost a blessing.

\---

“Are you all right?”

The suit’s OS came online again and the readout told Tony he had been down for no more than four minutes. His injuries were minimal but there was some damage to the external sensors. Visual was coming in fuzzy but someone was lifting him out of the wreckage. Holding him in his arms.

“Took a beating, but I can still stand, I think.” He was being set down on to his feet. It took a half a second for the weight stabilizers to reorient as he wobbled.

“You need to get out of here, I’ve got this--”

“No, you don’t. You don’t understand--”

“I do. Now stand down. They are locked in on you. I can hold them back long enough for you to get away. SHIELD is coming.”

“No way. I don’t trust them. The people, the ones attacking, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

“Iron Man, listen, they are only after you. Otherwise they are docile. They won’t be harmed, you have my word.”

The visual display was still repairing itself but he could make out a face through the pixelization. For brief flashes the image would come in clear--most of the man’s head was covered in a cowl, but the eyes that showed through were striking. Tony didn’t have much of a choice but to trust him.

“All right, I’m holding you to that,” he said, with the authority that being in the suit always brought him, transcending doubts or age or fear.

“Head southeast, don’t look back.” The visual was finally sorting itself out and Tony couldn’t half believe what he saw. “And thanks for holding them here. You did good, soldier.”

Standing there larger than life--looking like a walking flag, scales of his armor catching little dots of moonlight--and smiling under his cowl, Captain America nodded at Iron Man and hoisted his shield, turning to run back into the fray.

Tony only let himself stare for a moment before flying off as instructed.

\---

 

Hours later Tony was still walking through the streets. It was getting very late, as the constant texts from his friends reminded him. He had shot back word that he was alive but said nothing past that, the scene still too clear in his mind to be addressed. Tomorrow, he’d tell them tomorrow, some of it, maybe. He just didn’t want to deal with it now.

Tony tried to push it out of his mind, focusing through the haze of shock on a little spark of wonder. Captain America, though of course it couldn’t actually have been him. Not the one from the history books and comics. Not the man that his grandfather had told him stories about or who had featured in posters on his wall. But SHIELD had someone in the costume again and that was certainly something.

Even if it wasn’t exactly the same man, having your one of heroes tell you that you’ve done well wasn’t the sort of thing that happened everyday. At least not anymore. Tony thought of his father and immediately he wished he was in his lab working, but there would be a gauntlet of people between him and productivity if he headed back. He could work in his head, get it down later.

Tony didn’t notice the sound of an approaching bike until it rumbled to a stop beside him. He backed away. Couldn’t be Maggia, they would only be tracking the suit, he knew he wasn’t being watched when he got out of it but the night's events had left him over cautious. Maybe just as cautious as he ought to be.

Then he made out the face under the helmet, and there was a surprise.

“Steve, hey,” Tony’s mind scanned the bike almost as well as his suit would have, a beautiful old WLA in perfect condition. She was gorgeous. Steve was gorgeous. It was a good fit. Tony smiled at him but it wasn’t returned with the enthusiasm Tony had gotten used to.

Over the last few weeks Tony had come to really enjoy Steve’s company. He’d discovered that aside from being nice to look at and more than fair with his grades, Steve was a little goofy, sweet to a fault and there was something refreshingly different about him, something that made him feel a little out of step with everything around him. There was everything else in the world, and then there was Steve. Tony couldn’t help be gravitate towards the anomaly.

Tony had become a constant fixture in Steve’s classroom at lunch time. They would talk about cars or history or just nothing. Steve liked these old corny books and he got kinda excited when he started talking about these adventure stories that probably no one else under 70 had read. Sometimes Tony would just watch him sketch. Lend a hand–or an arm or a foot–whenever Steve needed a reference for something.

He’d never forget the time Pepper came in looking for him and opened the classroom door to find Tony sitting on Steve’s desk with his shoes off, leg twisted down at an uncomfortable angle while Steve focused intensely at his ankle from where he sat cross-legged on the floor. She had simply stared for a moment, looked between them and walked out the door without a word. They had both burst out laughing as soon as the door clicked.

But Steve was wearing his concerned adult face right now, which was never good.

“Tony, what are you doing out here at this hour?” Tony looked up and around and realized that he must have been walking for longer than he thought. He was in a completely different part of town and it was far later than he would have guessed. It followed then how bad this probably looked, kid walking alone, sometime in the middle of the night, in not the best part of town with a large backpack and a worried expression. Yeah, that would explain why Steve was giving him the concerned face.

“Yeah, I--” he looked up at Steve, his open face beckoning honesty out of him. He could have said anything but he told him what he could of the truth. “I’m sort of avoiding home right now. It’s really not a big deal, I just needed some time alone to clear my head.” Tony imagined from the stern look and firm line of Steve’s mouth that he was about to be dragged back to Rhodey’s, but Steve only nodded.

“Right, come on. I can’t leave you out here after midnight in this neighborhood.” He handed Tony his helmet which he stared at mutely, at least glad he wasn’t being scolded. “I live a couple blocks from here. You’re welcome to come up for a while.”

“I-” Tony stared wide eyed. One beat of disbelief. One beat of uncertainty. One beat of 'oh my God I’m being picked up by my teacher.' And then, “yeah, sure, that would be great,” he answered with enthusiasm while taking the helmet offered to him.

“Just hold on, it’s a short ride.”

“Okay. Yeah. Good.” It felt like Tony's whole brain had crashed and was in the process of rebooting. Thoughts slid into place slowly one at a time. It had been such a violently horrible night. Literally. He didn’t want to be alone, not really. He just didn’t want to be accountable for a little while. This was good, he wanted this. Steve was nice. Tony wrapped his arms tight around Steve’s middle, solid as a tree trunk. Yeah, this was good. Steve was good. Tony pressed his cheek against Steve back, the leather of his old jacket soft against his skin. He needed something good right now.

\---

“You can throw your things down anywhere.” Steve gave a strained smile over his shoulder. He tried not to let it show but he was worried about Tony. As much as he assured Steve that it was nothing, Tony seemed uneasy. Tony smiled but there was still obviously something he was holding back.

Steve had seen it enough times, guys who saw too much in the field and were never quite able to shake it. There were bandages for bullets but some things were harder to heal. It broke his heart, without fail; they were good men and never deserved it.

Tony had been through a lot. They had never talked about it much, but anyone with a mind to investigate (and a certain level of clearance) could find out what had happened to him. The accident with Howard’s plane was common enough knowledge but the fact that Tony had been aboard was less so. No one was quite sure how he had survived it but it couldn’t have been easy on him. Losing a father was one thing, nearly dying in the process was another. Having to deal with it all having just turned sixteen was almost too much.

But Tony never showed a hint of damage. He was nothing but charming and friendly, a little odd but only in that way that came with being too clever for his own good. That almost worried Steve more. Something had to give eventually. He worried that he might be seeing that now.

Steve liked Tony a lot; the kid had a spirit and a way of talking about things that made the future seem like it might not be so bad. He had decided to look out for Tony--just about the only the reason why he stayed with the teaching job--so that’s just what he was going to do.

“Would you like some cocoa?”

Tony had settled himself onto the sofa and was looking around the apartment. “Uh, I guess.” He sounded preoccupied. Steve walked into the kitchen, leaving Tony to get used to his surroundings. He remembered a stray cat he once brought home as a child. How it stood in middle of the room with its hackles up for almost an hour before curling into his lap for the night. Steve blushed a bit and quickly cut off the comparison. “You don’t have any coffee do you?” came from the front room.

“I don’t actually,” Steve called back.

“Okay then.” Steve started to pull things from the cabinets and then heard a quick, “Thank you, by the way. Cocoa, yeah. Don’t you have a TV?” Steve could help but chuckle to himself. Tony always made him laugh. He hadn’t realized how little he had been doing it until he had worked to remedy it.

“No, I don’t have that either,” he called out

“Uh, any chance of a beer or something?”

“Strike three, kid. Cocoa’s what we got.”

“Okay, no, that’s good. I said thanks, right? Yeah.”

As much as it had become something of a ritual after a mission, the cocoa was a strategic move. Steve needed a minute to think. It had been a hell of a night. The docks were a mess and even the most stalwart agents of SHIELD, possessed of the strongest stomachs, had taken pause at the scene. More than one had to look away from the carnage to steel himself. Steve couldn’t blame them. It wasn't the sort of thing anyone should ever get used to looking at.

Then there was the debriefing on dealing with Iron Man. For all the reports that told Steve that Iron Man was an unstable rogue element, he couldn’t help but like him. He was smart. Inexperienced, untrained, but clever. He learned quick and and reacted fast. Iron Man was brave and Steve had meant it when he told him he had done well. Unfortunately, being smart didn’t mean a man couldn’t get himself into a whole heap of trouble.

Steve thought about Tony as the milk started to bubble.

Steve didn’t want to press him, he decided. Tony wasn’t under his command, he had no right to the guy's secrets. He was safe here so Steve felt he had done his bit; now he would just be a friend. That would be the best thing. Steve finished off the cocoa by tossing a few little marshmallows into the mugs and carried them out to his friend.

Tony was visibly anxious and trying hard to hide it. Steve sat himself down next to him while they drank in silence.

“So...” Tony looked up at him over his cup but trailed off. Steve had never felt more boring in his life.

“Sorry, I don’t do a lot of--well, entertaining.”

“That’s okay.” Tony looked at Steve again for a long moment. He took a breath and the swallowed whatever he was going to say. “It nice just being here, comfortable.” Which was funny, because Steve had never seen him look less so. He just nodded.

“Hey, you have a laptop,” Tony announced suddenly as though he had spotted an old friend across the room.

“Oh yeah,” Steve pulled out the thing and switched it on so it whirred to life.

“Wow, a really old laptop. It should do, though. You have internet at least, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“We can watch movies on this then. Screen's big enough, if we huddle together.” Tony looked at him again and Steve felt distinctly like he was supposed to be doing something, but he couldn’t figure out for the life of him what.

“Um, so how do you get it to do the movies?”

“Just let me get into the site and there, they have tons of stuff, nothing much good but--”

“What’s that one?” Steve pointed.

“Wait seriously, you’ve never seen Sandlot? That one’s a classic, were you like Amish or something?”

“I don’t think so.” Tony laughed, Steve liked it when he laughed, or smiled. His face changed when he was really happy. He looked like someone his age ought to.

A few more times through the night Tony looked away from the screen at him expectantly. When one movie ended before Steve picked out another he thought he was going to tell him something but nothing came of it. Maybe Tony was expecting him to pry about whatever he was running from, but curious as he was Steve didn’t do it. Only ten minutes into Pride of the Yankees Tony slumped against Steve’s shoulder, dead asleep. It was late. Steve figured he might as well let him rest, he looked like he needed it. He carried Tony to his bed, pulled off his shoes, tucked him in and curled up with a blanket on the floor beside him.


	3. Chapter 3

“Where the hell were you last night?” Tony yawned. He had only caught a couple of hours sleep before Steve–honestly, who wakes up at 6am on a Saturday?--had given him a ride back. He had headed straight for the kitchen, hoping to get some coffee in before he had to talk to anyone. No such luck.

“I told you I was fine, Rhodey, I just needed to lay low for a little. Make sure I wasn’t followed back.”

“Tony. Where did you spend the night?” Pepper’s voice came from behind, startling him.

“Oh hey, Pep. What are you doing up so early?”

“Worrying about you. Now answer.”

“I ran into Steve--Mr. Rogers. I sort of went home with him.”

“Wait, the art teacher?” Pepper’s eyes went huge. “Oh, Tony you didn’t? Did you? That is _so_ illegal, he is going to be in so much trouble. You know they put people like him on a list, don’t you?”

“Cool it Pep, it wasn’t like that.” Not for lack of hoping. Tony should have said something, just jumped on Steve and kissed him. Then at least he would have known what was up. But it had been a bad night, and Tony had been off his game to say the least. “We drank hot chocolate and watched old baseball movies. It was--” He had no idea what it was. “It was nice.” Okay it was that; he loved hanging out with Steve, even if it hadn't quite gone the way Tony thought it would. He was glad to be able to call Steve a friend. “Besides, he’s only about four years older than me and I’ll be eighteen in a few months.”

“Oh. Well okay then.” She crossed her arms seeming genuinely placated, but Rhodey was a harder job.

“Still doesn’t explain why the hell you turned off your phone.” Rhodey wasn’t looking at him, and that usually meant he was _actually _mad at Tony above and beyond the constant level of friendly-annoyed. Damn, he’d screwed up worse than he thought.__

“I just--” Tony thought about the blood and people, just what was left of people, spread out over the planks of the dock. All of it came surging back from the corner of his mind where he had shoved it. “I needed some time to think.” Or to not think, or have to answer any questions.

“And during all that thinking you couldn’t maybe let us know what was up?”

“You didn’t need to know.” The blood had looked almost black in the moonlight, like oil.

“No, we didn’t. I don’t _need_ to know anything about what you are doing. But I thought we were in this together, man.”

“Look, just because I gave you a suit doesn’t mean that you have a right to know everything I do.” The sickening sound of people walking through the remains.

“No, what it means is that we are a team, you remember that? Or are you pulling that _I don’t need anyone, I am the night_ shit again?”

“Hey guys, can’t we just--”

“No Pep, let him talk. Let him tell me how much stake he has in stopping Stane or Hammer from using his work to hurt people, how he has his father's legacy resting on him or how he had to watch--”

No. He didn't want to say it like that. Detached, Tony ordered himself, stay detached.

“Tony?” Pepper put a hand on his shoulder and while Tony looked at the floor he could feel Rhodey and Pepper looking at each other. He heard Rhodey sit back in his chair.

“Something really bad is happening. I don’t know that I understand it, but I didn’t want you involved in it. It’s not like the other stuff, not like guys in suits, it’s not like playing a video game. Some people got hurt, really badly.” He took a breath. “Dead, they got dead.” Tony wanted to stop talking about it so he could stop thinking about it. He wanted to think about that new Zonda roadster or getting a OS upgrade on his phone or how Steve’s hair smelled. Anything else.

“Tony, I’m sorry man, I didn’t--” Tony shook his head.

“Short story: the Maggia is bringing these people in. I don’t know if they are mutant or have some tech I couldn’t pick up or what, but they are walking bombs, worse even. It’s like they have repulsor tech without the suits. They could get in anywhere undetected, and I don’t need to tell either of you the damage that they could do. Someone is controlling them, someone with a lot more power than the guys running the transport operation. SHIELD is handling it but I don’t want to leave it to them. Pepper--”

“Already on it.” Good to her word, she was hitching her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Rhodey--”

“I’ll be ready to suit up.”

“No.”

“Okay, wait, because I thought we just had this fight.”

“War Machine hasn’t got much in the way on non-lethal weaponry. I don’t want anyone else dead.”

“So I’m on the bench.” He looked disappointed, but not angry at least.

“Anything you can do to help Pepper.” Tony watched as he nodded, taking it all with grace. Tony couldn’t remember a time we his friend wasn’t infinitely more level headed than Tony himself. It was never about ego; he did just want to help. “Actually, I could use another pair of hands in the lab. You mind some heavy-lifting grunt work?”

“Beats spending all day on the computer.” He smiled and Tony took a deep breath.

“Great, because I’ve got some blueprints.” Tony tapped his temple. “And we need to get this one together fast.”

 

\----

 

“If I may, Sir.” A flick of the hand and the roll of an eye served as a yes, and Steve continued. “I’d like the full report on the handling of the people we brought in last night.”

“Would you?” Fury looked up to challenge him. Steve neither rose to the bait nor backed away, simply stating his response as firmly and clearly as he had the request.

“Yes.”

In a lot of ways SHIELD was less formal and rigid than the military operations Steve was used to. When you were in the field at war some protocol broke down. You did what you did to protect your people, because you wanted to not because you were ordered to. SHIELD wasn’t quite like that. There was no man here he would call brother, but there was a terse sense of urgency to everything that caused a lot of personal protocol to fall by the wayside in the face of necessity.

In another way SHIELD was far more twisted up in regulation and red tape than he was used to. He never got saddled with much in the way of paperwork, but he knew that at the end of the day they never left an ‘i’ undotted or a ‘t’ uncrossed. It was the way they ran: outside one set of laws but strictly adhering to their own. One agent had told him, by way of a joke, that's how they knew they were the good guys: because they had to file a report at the end of the day. Steve didn’t think it was very funny.

Fury didn’t speak but drew a file out and slid it to Steve across the desk.

“Where is your interest in this?” he asked, as Steve began to page through the thick folder.

“I want to know what is being done with the people we brought in. How the situation’s being handled.”

“That’s sudden. You’ve never shown any concern for our end of things.” A small twitch gave away Steve’s annoyance at the insinuation. He followed orders, but never blindly. Before war and before serums, the one thing you could say about Steve Rogers was that he knew his own mind.

“I’ve always cared.” And he had given his word to Iron Man to watch this one. Steve never took that sort of thing lightly. There was no reason the good guys shouldn’t be on the same side. Alliances--friendships--could win wars, and he would forge them where he could.

“Yes, Captain, I know that. My question to you is what has shaken your faith in our ability to handle this in a manner appropriate to the situation?”

Steve didn’t make a habit of lying and saw no reason to start. “The scene out there shook a lot of people up.” He also never made a habit of laying all his cards on the table from the get go.

“They have seen worse, or they will, and if they can’t handle that then we have plenty of sensitive data processing positions for people who want out of field work.”

“It just got me wondering.” He scanned the file further. All the people involved, whole and breathing or otherwise, had been taken to a high security medical facility. The lab techs were still in the process of conducting autopsies. He was looking at data he only half understood, though from some of the hand written notes that had yet to be blacked out, he got the feeling that the people in the labs weren’t too far ahead of him.

The survivors were useless as witnesses. They had no ID, fingerprints were burnt off, and their DNA wasn’t on any record in the SHIELD database. As of the last report, SHIELD was running through dental records. The interviewers couldn’t get anything coherent out of them; the responses noted down were just formless ramblings.

They had a psychic come in to probe them, but there was nothing left to read. Scans showed that parts of the brain had just been eaten away. ‘Lobotomized’ is what Steve guessed you called it, if you were being technical.

And after all that there was no physical trace left in their systems of whatever had been done to them, aside from the damage that had been left behind.

“They aren’t mutants,” Fury offered as Steve silently studied the file. “That’s about all we know for certain. The lab coats’ best guess is some kind of biotech, seeing as it’s breaking down so fast. We are making some progress with the bodies. They were able to get a few flash frozen before whatever the hell is in them could fully degrade.”

“What about the survivors?”

“That’s a generous use of the word, Captain.” No one heard the door open, but no one was surprised, as Agent Natasha Romanoff strode into the room with the exact steps of a dancer. “I’ve been down there. Not pretty.”

She dropped a little plastic drive on to Fury’s desk. “This was everything I could get out of them. I shouldn’t have to tell you that means everything. Full stop.”

“You were able to run down some of the people responsible for this?” Steve broke in. Something about that prospect made Steve very happy. People were being used, killed, and some might have had families who would never know what had happened to them. Steve wanted a target, something to throw a punch at and make the acid feeling in his gut go away.

Natasha looked to Fury and waited. He nodded.

“Not the people responsible, but the people they were using. Give it a week and we will give you something to throw your shield at, big man.” She gave a little sniff of a laugh. Natasha had his number and she knew it.

Somehow Steve liked that. He smiled, open and genuine. “Good. You aim, I’ll fire.”

“The system at work.” She smirked and turned to Fury. “Mission completed. That means I’m allowed down now. I’ve been a very good girl, now let me off the damn leash.”

“The terms of your contract say that you are, upon successful completion of your first solo mission, allowed out. But with a guard and for a limited time.”

“Fine. Rogers, you’re buying me a latte and then I’m going to get laid.”

“I’m, what--” Steve tried and failed not to sputter stupidly. She was turning away without waiting for the affirmative.

“Not you, pick up your jaw,” she corrected without turning.

“I--” Natasha certainly had a way with people. “Yes ma’am,” he managed, and followed her out the door.

 

\---

 

The cafe they ended up in was small but lively, just enough conversation and machine noise floating through the rich coffee-scented air that it didn’t feel like anyone would be listening to them. Steve told Natasha this and she confirmed that he was right, and seemed impressed at his instinct. It was a good place to talk, out in the open, public enough to be private. Unless you could pin down what table the target would be at, any place with an espresso machine was a nightmare to bug. The sound drowned out everything and it was always going at random intervals.

In civvies, and out of the second skin that was Natasha’s body armor, she looked no less imposing. She still carried herself as though a silk blouse would stop bullets just the same as Kevlar. But she seemed in better spirits from the moment they got into the city and were able to walk around freely.

She drew in sips of something that Steve lost track of after skinny-soy-no foam, across from Steve and his bagel.

“He wouldn’t be a risk if we could get him on-side,” Steve continued, as he had been, casually arguing the benefits of trying to bring the man behind Iron Man into the fold. Everyday there were more mech suits popping up. It would grow to the point where the problem was bigger than Iron Man could handle alone, and SHIELD could certainly address the threat better if they had an expert on call.

“Fine,” Natasha sighed, clearly wanting him to stop talking or at least change the subject to anything other than SHIELD business. “You’re not wrong, but bring it to Fury and he will laugh you right out of the helicarrier.”

“He deserves a chance. You never know what people can be capable of unless they try.”

“God, you really are just a walking motivational poster, aren’t you? Bottom line: he is unreliable, obviously young and really stupid for someone as clever as he thinks he is.”

“He saved your life, Natasha.”

“He just happened to do it before I could.” They stared across the table at each other for a long moment until she finally rolled her eyes and slipped a hand into her bra. Steve thought it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to look away and after half a second he managed to do so. “Here. Stop blushing. And don’t think the puppy face worked, I was giving it to you anyway.”

“I don’t have a puppy fa--” Sitting on the table was a drive identical to the one she had given to Fury. “This is--”

“Just what you think it is. If you think he can help, if you really trust him, let him prove it.” Steve stared at it for a moment, and then with a firm nod picked the thing up from the table and put it in his own pocket.

“Promise me something, Rogers.” Steve nodded solemnly; she had taken a great risk and while she was in a precarious position, he would do whatever he could for her.

“Let me know what’s under the hood. I’m curious whether he's fuckable under that thing.” She sipped her coffee while Captain America nearly ended himself on a bagel.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony had spent the weekend holed up in the lab with Rhodey. Good to his word, Rhodey had stuck out the duration, only disappearing to check in with his mother at night and do runs to keep the pair in coffee, soda and hamburgers--though Tony only seemed interested in the first.

When Monday rolled around Rhodey had told a distracted Tony he had to go and insisted that Tony at least try to make it for some of his classes today. Tony had grunted noncommittally at him, and Rhodey had taken his leave. 

Hours latter Tony looked up and wondered why there wasn’t fresh coffee and why the box of circuit boards he had asked his friend to sort was laying out on the table, job half done.

He looked at his phone to check how long he’d been at it. Damn. One of these days he really needed to figure out how to freeze time. 

Wednesday morning brought Pepper around with food, water and a stern enough glare to make Tony sit down and take them. It was a good chance to catch up with her research.

“Well, I can’t find much, but sometimes what you don't see on a report can tell you a lot.” She rested her chin on one hand while she thumbed through some data on her phone with another. “There is nothing from the police or normal military channels, so we can be pretty sure you and SHIELD were the first trouble they ran into. I managed to get a lead on some of the Maggia guys running the deal but then they just disappeared. Not like gone to Bermuda disappeared but like scary, never been born disappeared.”

“I’m still working on trying to get into the SHIELD database, I can’t tell if what I’m getting is all they've got or if the clearance I’m able to get just isn’t high enough to get at the good stuff. It’s a lot tougher than last time, they've beefed up security in a big way, my dad’s codes can only do so much for me but I think that--”

“Pepper?” Tony perked up suddenly, the food and water seeming to take effect.

‘Uh, yeah Tony?” 

“What day is it?” 

“Wednesday,” she looked at her phone, “7:38. Oh, that means I should run, I don’t want to be late for--” Tony jumped out of his chair. Wednesday. Fourth period. Steve. He looked at his reflection on a glass system display panel. Ugh, not good. Go home, shower. Come in for at least second, third at the worst. 

“Earth to Tony?” Pepper's voice pulled him out of his head. “This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain teacher that you've been having sleepovers with.”

“No,” yeah, no one was gonna believe that, especially not Pepper. “Yes, a little.” She rolled her eyes.

“You're kinda ridiculous, you know that? You have a whole school full of people to date and you end up going after a teacher.”

“Student teacher. Volunteer, and I’m not going af--”

“Yeah, and how does that even work, because student teachers don’t even work that way and he doesn’t have anything like enough of the right credits to be allowed to do it anyhow. They have some of the best teachers on the east coast at our school, why are they taking on a volunteer anyway? No way they need it.”

“How exactly do you know what credits he has?” He couldn’t believe her. Then again, he completely could. Actually, he should have expected it.

“Hey, I was working hard on team Iron Man stuff all weekend. I needed to take a breaks, federal law, and I’m not even getting minimum wage for this so it’s the last thing you should be complaining about.”

“So you stalk my friends on your break? That’s healthy.”

“A girl needs a hobby.” She shrugged, unfazed. 

“It’s a private school, Pep. He probably knows someone, or his dad does or something. Rules get bent all the time. Leave him alone, he's a good guy.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she hesitated and looked away off to the side at some monitor, “but we thought that about Gene too...” She trailed off and Tony balled his hands into fists. The hurt of the betrayed friendship too still too raw; anger was welling up inside him looking for an outlet. Tony forced himself to relax his hands and turned away. 

“Pepper...” He didn’t have time for it. “I’ll see you at school.” 

Tony thought of the fight before with Rhodey and turned back. 

“Thank you for all the--” But he was cut off by the door clanging shut behind her.

He turned back to his work bench, looking at the project that had consumed the last few days of his life. Pulling aside the sheet that covered it he took the helmet of the new suit in his hands and stared down into the unlit eye slits.

“Pepper.”

 

\---

 

Tony managed to roll into class in the middle of third period English with a thin excuse and his best smile. The teacher was more than used to Tony’s erratic attendance by now and just waved him to his seat so that she could carry on.

Tuning out the lecture, Tony pondered what he was going to do about Steve. He’d been so busy with work that he’d not given it much thought but now, minutes away from seeing him, he had to figure out something.

Harmless crush had somehow grown into full fixation without having the courtesy to ask Tony about it first. Thing was, the more Tony had talked to Steve the more he realized that Steve wasn't just good, he was _good_. Really good, achingly so, just the best sort of person that Tony had ever met, understanding and selfless and humble and stubbornly committed to the idea that people are basically decent.

In any other circumstance that would have made Tony despise Steve, but he had also proved himself to be oafishly charming, funny and clever. Steve didn’t seem to have this optimistic view because he didn’t understand people, but instead because he did so better than the rest of the world. Tony liked being around him for a thousand reasons but maybe the most embarrassing one was that being with Steve made him feel like a better person if for no other reason than because Steve believed him to be.

The bell rang and Tony made his way to his locker, no closer to having found a solid approach. He liked to think he was fairly good at chatting someone up but Steve threw him. Tony had thought for sure he knew what the night he spent at Steve’s house was going to be about. He threw out feelers, long looks and comments with hints of suggestion to them, but they just seemed to roll off of Steve. At least he wasn’t weirded out; he didn’t put on the extra-macho, _I’m so straight you could use me as a level_ act and he didn’t give Tony an _it would be inappropriate, you’re like a little brother to me_ speech.

But Steve never did seem to react to things like most people. Tony was going to have to be direct. He would just ask him out, plain and simple; if he was open to it, great, if not hopefully they could laugh it off. Steve didn’t seem like the kind of person to hold something like that over a guy.

Tony closed his locker and jumped as he saw Whitney staring at him. One elegant eyebrow arched, she looked him over with no attempt to hide the judgement in her stare. He backed up a step and she followed, heels clicking on the tile. She may not have remembered her brief but impressive career as a--villain, vigilante, thief, he never really spoke to her about how she classed herself--but he certainly did.

“All right, who is she?”

“What? Who? Pepper? I told you, she's just a friend. She's seeing Happy now anyway and I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore--why am I explaining myself to you?”

“That is a very good question, Tony.” Fifty dollar an ounce lip gloss twitched into a smile.

“Give me a break, yeah? Just this once. Tell me, what are we talking about?”

“You, you are seeing someone, and I don’t know who. I just want to make sure they are good enough for you.” She smiled, and it overtook the haughty angles of her face to make her look genuinely sweet for a moment. “Just because you were a horrible boyfriend doesn’t mean I don’t care any more. We are still friends.”

“Thank you Whitney. I think.” Tony laughed. She was still slightly terrifying, but at least she was on his side. “And I’m not seeing anyone. Just so you know.”

“No, but you want to be, and I’ll find out who they are.”

“So it’s they and not she now?”

“I said ‘she’ and the first name that came to your mind was Pepper, like you said she is taken and well... I’m sure she’s very nice,” she gave a strained smile, “but not girlfriend material. So stands to reason it’s a him. I was just being polite in case you didn’t want anyone to know.”

“You... are a little bit frightening, you know that?”

“Thank you, Tony.” She smiled, turned on her high heel and strode away.

He watched her go with a moment of longing. For everything else, she was very beautiful and he missed having the smell of her perfume on him. But she was right; he couldn’t ask her to be stood up again and again. Iron Man was always going to come first and no matter how she shuddered when he kissed her neck or how good her soft little fingers felt running through his hair she was never going to be a top priority.

She knew she deserved better. Tony thought about Steve, wonderful Steve with his big stupid smile; he certainly didn’t deserve that sort of treatment any more than Whitney did. Maybe dating was just off the table until he was out of school. Or until Iron Man wasn’t needed--yeah right, that was going to happen soon. He might as well sign up to be a monk.

“Hey, Whitney.” She turned and walked back to him, close enough he could see the shimmery bits in her eyeshadow.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Tony winced inwardly, hoping that didn't sound as pathetic to her as it did to him.

“You’re not asking for another chance are you?” The tone of her voice was unreadable so Tony just shook his head. Honestly, he just needed to hear that he wasn’t a complete waste of time before inflicting himself on anyone else. Whitney sighed. “You know, I used to have a little dog that made a face like that. It chewed up one of Daddy’s shoes and he took it to live on a farm.” She frowned, caught in a memory for a moment, then her attention snapped back. “Tony, you and I are both very used to getting just what we want, just when we want it. Maybe two people like that aren’t the best suited for each other?”

“Are you calling me a spoiled brat?” Tony asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No,” she smiled, “I’m calling us spoiled brats. I think...I think because of how we grew up, maybe it hurts worse than it should, the things we know we can’t have. Whatever you had going on that was more important than me--”

“Whitney, it’s wasn’t--”

“Shut up, Tony, that’s just what it was. You want to talk daddy issues with me, we can be here all week. I know you work yourself as hard as do you on all that techy stuff to try and do what you think would have made him proud. But whatever, it’s not my problem anymore. This guy, does he like to go to a lot of concerts?” 

“I don’t think he even knows any music made in the last decade.”

“What about fancy dinners at expensive restaurants?”

“He told me once that he feels strange paying more that $3 for a loaf of bread.”

“Black tie parties? Expensive gifts?”

“I’m pretty sure he owns two pairs of shoes.”

“So what does he like?” 

Tony thought for a minute.“Baseball, art, walking in the park, American history, really old books and ugly shirts.” Tony laughed a little to himself. He didn’t know that much about Steve really, but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything about him. Or just be around him; Steve didn’t have to tell him anything. They could have lunch in the park and a game of basketball. Or late night hamburgers. Or just hang out in his tiny little apartment. In his bed...

Tony shook his head, remembering he was in the middle of a conversation.

“You should be fine. This guy seems like he’s about what you need. And no, you weren’t that horrible.”

“Thanks Whitney.” Tony let out a little breath of relief.

“Great. I think I’m going to skip out early and see my darling auntie Sarah. She breeds the sweetest little dogs, Pomeranians. I think I might just have to take one home. Daddy will be so surprised.” She pursed her lips and then smiled cheerfully. 

“Oh, and Tony.”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Mr. Rogers I say hi.”

“Wa--” The bell rang and Whitney was already walking away. “Well. I guess that settles it.” And without wasting another second, he ran to class.

\---

As much as Tony really did adore the man at the head of the class, the fact remained that art history was still the dullest thing in the known universe, and he still couldn’t pay attention to save his life. He and Steve seemed to have come to a comfortable understanding on this. While Tony couldn’t tell you when Van Gogh died, he could pick one of his paintings out of a lineup and Steve seemed happy enough with that.

At the end of class, once everyone had rushed out for lunch break, Tony hopped onto the front desk, seating himself on the edge, and leaned back on his hands in what, he felt, should be a completely irresistible pose. The added, “Hey Mr. Steve,” and large blue eyes really should have sealed the deal.

Unfortunately all he got was a warm smile and a, “Hey Tony, glad you are feeling better. Was starting to worry about you there.” Tony sighed and arranged himself in a slightly more dignified position.

“Yeah, well. You know how it is. Gotta take care of yourself. Rest and chicken soup.” Tony tried not to laugh at the sheer audacity of his own lie but Steve just nodded and kept on sorting through his papers. 

“So things are better? No more late night strolls?” Steve looked up at him cautiously from under his eyelashes.

Tony gave an easy laugh. “No, no everything’s... Well, I talked to my friends about it. We're working it out.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. You have a lot going on, Tony. More that most kids.” He didn’t know the half of it. “I get that can be hard on a guy. Just remember you can always come to me if you are in trouble, all right?”

“Uhh yeah, I’ll keep it in mind.” How the hell did he do that, that solemn, earnest face that made Tony feel like what he didn’t even know. Like he desperately wanted to measure up and be worth that sort of concern. This was so not the conversation he wanted to be having. 

“Haha, man, it got really after school special in here.” Right Tony, just say it. Ask him. “You wanna come out with me after school? Grab a burger or something?”

“Sure,” Steve answered immediately, smiling up at him with enthusiasm, and that was... weird. Good. He said yes and all but it was a little too quick. Direct, Tony reminded himself.

“Good, because that business the other night, I don’t know if it came across, but I like you. A lot.” Wait for it.

“I’m glad Tony. I like you a lot too.” Same smile and Tony felt like he was beating his head against a wall. Okay, no, this was good. He was almost 78% certain than he had a date. 

“Great, you wanna meet me at that place on 3rd?” 

“Yeah, I think I know the one.”

“And maybe if things go well we can go back to yours.” That was blatant, there was no way that Steve would---

“You’re always welcome at my place, Tony.” Tony, stewing in quiet frustration, was pretty sure at that point that aside from being completely smitten with him, he might actually hate Steve.

\---

After lunch, when Tony had run off to his next class, Steve rode home with a mind to shower, change and work on the color theory assignment he had due at the end of the week. When he got to his apartment he decided it might be better to do the assignment first so he didn’t show up covered in pastel.

He sat at his table, working the soft medium into the paper, bringing bright gradients to life, and he thought about Tony. The lively blue of his eyes, the dark coffee brown of his hair, the rich natural tan of his skin. Steve pulled himself back with a quick reprimand. Had to get that sort of thing out of his head. Tony was a great guy and Steve would always be happy to have him as a friend. So much so that he didn’t dare push for more than that.

Tony was brilliant, bright as a firecracker, charming as all get out. He probably had girls lined up around the block. As soon as he got through this rough patch he was going to be completely incorrigible, even worse than Bucky had been, pulling them in left and right--and that had been before he got the uniform on, the girls all loved those uniforms.

But then, after dancing with the girls Bucky would usually come home and crawl into Steve’s bed a little drunk and--but Tony probably wasn’t like that. And even if his interests did lie that way, he was young, and Steve felt more than a little responsible for him.

Tony worked up a protective streak in Steve that was about a mile long and two miles wide. He really just wanted the guy to be safe. Only, the safest place he could think of was right by Steve’s side, maybe right in his arms. Good sense told Steve that that was impractical, but good sense never had much pull where the heart was involved. And as much as Steve wished it wasn’t, at this point it was.

He had talked to Natasha about it over the weekend. He hadn’t intended to, but she accosted him with the topic.

“So, your boyfriend is cute. Little young though, didn’t think you were the type for that,” she’d remarked, as though commenting on the weather. Steve had coughed on his iced blended mocha so hard he turned red. Natasha had waited patiently for him to finish; she’d gotten used to it, he guessed. It didn’t feel like a Saturday any more unless Natasha nearly killed him with a casual comment.

“My what?” Steve managed, face still a little red but recovering quickly.

“The Stark boy. Picking up kids from your class? Kinky, Rogers, I’m almost proud of you.”

“Tony’s not my boyfriend.”

“Don’t tell him that, you’ll break his little heart. Oops. Well, whatever’s left of it.”

“Nat, I...” Steve didn’t even know where to start. Before she’d said it the notion of Tony being interested in him like that never entered his mind. He was so young--though that wasn’t really true, he was a few months away from eighteen and if you counted a years awake Steve was only twenty three. But he was Tony Stark. He was bright and brilliant and full of promise. He was going to go on in his father and grandfather’s footsteps and change the world, fill it full of wonders. What could he possibly see in a old soldier like Steve?

Natasha had watched him, red lips slowly widening in a smile. “Oh, as charming as it is to watch your brain overheat at the notion of someone being attracted to you--because it really it is, you're like a psychological train crash--let me lay this out for you. The kid wants in your pants. Half the people in here also probably want in your pants, but I don’t imagine they are as invested in it as he is.” Steve had looked around the room and his incredulous expression turned to shock as he noticed the number of people who had been looking at him.

“But he’s--”

“No. We aren’t doing this. I’m not going to be your relationship advice councillor. Work it out yourself. Fuck him or don’t.”

“Natasha...”

“Yes?” 

He’d sighed, shoulders sagging, no point arguing it, he thought. “How on earth did you find out about him?”

“SHIELD has your classroom bugged. If you like I can tell you where the ones in your apartment are.”

“I-- Yes, I actually would like that.”

Steve spent the rest of the weekend digging mics out of his wall and spackling up the holes. Between that and his schoolwork he’d been able to keep his mind mostly off of Tony. But when he got to the Academy on Tuesday he heard in the staff room that Tony was out on Monday and again that day, and the kid again became the first thing on Steve’s mind. He’d told the truth when he had talked to Tony at lunch; he really was worried. After that night he’d taken Tony home Steve felt it wasn’t unwarranted. Tony obviously had a lot going on--all the more reason Steve should just be a friend. No point in complicating things further for him.

Steve had set to putting his pastels back into their box when his phone went off in his pocket. He pulled it out to see:

 _Be there in an hour, wear something nice for me. ;)_

Steve laughed in spite of himself and shook his head. If Tony was intent on teasing him then he could match him at that. Just because he wasn’t going to act out didn’t mean he couldn't at least play a little--as long as he didn’t encourage it too much. Steve thought for a moment and sent back:

_How bout you come by before next time and pick something out so I don’t embarrass you?_

_You asking me to come dress you in the mornings Mr.Steve?_

_Maybe just until I can work it out myself. You are the one always making fun of my clothes. You ought to be the one to do something about it._

_Yeah? Live in butler, I could do that. Used to have one before. Think I picked up a few tricks. Would master Steven like his hot cocoa this evening? -that sort of thing._

_All right, you’re hired. See you in a few, I’m gonna jump in the shower. ___

_K, think of me. ;)_

Steve could feel his face grow warm; he imagined he looked like the close cousin of a tomato. That was just the sort thing he had been trying hard not to do. Steve would have to remember to never try flirting again.

In the shower Steve leaned forward, resting his head on the tile and letting the water run over the muscles in his back. It took a serious beating for them to be sore these days but the water worked just as well at relaxing him. Or it normally did.

Today he couldn't get that stupid text out of his head. It was a joke, he reminded himself, had to be, a dumb teasing joke. Tony’s grandfather would do the same thing to him. Lot of guys did. And they hardly ever meant it. It was supposed to be funny. And Steve guessed if you went through your life never once looking twice at another guy it would be. He just didn’t have that luxury.

Even if it wasn’t, even if Tony did want him, it just wasn’t going to happen. He was Captain America for god’s sake; he had no business corrupting a seventeenyearold boy. No matter how unnervingly handsome and cocky and smart and--No, damn it, he had to stop.

Try as he might to push the thoughts away, he couldn’t help the fantasy from forming. The words coming from Tony’s own mouth. Whispering into Steve’s ear, ‘think of me,’ urging him on. One last time Steve tried to stop himself. It felt weird and wrong, like he was using Tony, betraying some unspoken trust, to be thinking about him like this, but he couldn’t help it. The little twist that Steve’s stomach gave when he lowered his hand to alleviate himself of these ceaseless thoughts was soon pushed aside by the rush of relief when he spilled on his hand and the shower floor, whispering Tony’s name over a bitten lip.

When his phone sounded again and Steve saw the ID block and the string of numbers he knew to be a SHIELD code for _get your ass over here, solder_ , he was almost relived that he wouldn’t have to look Tony in the face tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

The face plate slid into place and Tony resigned himself. 

“Call: Steve Rogers, rout through phone.” The HUD brought up a picture of Steve in the corner, looking up with surprise as Tony had snapped his picture with his phone. 

“Hello--”

“Hey Ste--”

“I’m not here right now. Please leave your name and number and I’ll call you back as soon as--”

“Disconnect. Show me my messages” Steve’s face faded and a list up on the screen. Pepper, Pepper, Pepper again, Rhodey’s mom, Pepper... “Show me most recent.” Steve Rogers. “Open.”

“I’m sorry, Tony, but I don’t think I can make it tonight. I’ve got a lot more work than I thought I had. How about I owe you a hamburger and a coke?” Tony was instantly disappointed but realized this at least got him out of coming up with an excuse of his own. _I have to fight a big floating head_ didn’t seem like it would go over well.

The police scanner picked up something they were calling a bombing and he had been off like a shot. Pepper was still not too happy with him and Rhodey had a big test in the morning so Iron Man was fielding this one alone. When he touched down on the scene Tony was almost amused to see AIM agents running scared from a tall glass sky scraper. It felt like things being back to normal after the horrible night at the docks. Or as normal as things ever got for him.

“He’s gone mad! He can’t be stopped,” one screamed as he when running into the night.

“Thanks for the info.” Tony waved at the retreating wanna-beekeeper. 

An explosion from in side the building sent glass, fire and one screaming man flying from a twenty-first story window. In an instant Iron Man was in the air, little flecks of glass showering on him, pinging off the suit as he streaked up to catch the AIM agent. 

“Honestly, one of you idiots want to tell me who thought this guy was ever a good idea? Giant evil head, how did that even make it past a development meeting?” 

“Put me down, cretin!”

“Uninformative _and_ ungrateful. You know I had to cancel a date for this? No consideration.” Tony did set him down on a nearby roof and took off again without pause, racing to the section of blownout windows.

The suit gave him a constant read of the external temperatures as the flames curled harmlessly around him. Scanners cut through the smoke to give him a clear image of the ruined lab; monitors and consoles smashed to bits, and in the center of the destruction one big ugly face floating around in jerky spurts and sprints, his metal frame throwing off arcs of white hot energy.

“I AM MODOC! I WILL DESTROY! DESTR-R-chtckzz-RROY! DESTRO-RO-Y!”

“Actually, no. You won’t, Stubs.” Iron Man raised his hand and blasted the malfunctioning super brain across the room into a pile of broken concrete. It crashed with a highpitched shriek, throwing up a thick cloud of dust on impact.

There was a moment of stillness, the fire crackling as it devoured whatever was left to burn in the ruined lab. The suit scanned the dust cloud where MODOC had crashed. Tony didn’t think it was likely that one shot was going to take the monstrosity down, but the new armor was strong and he looked like he had taken a thrashing before Iron Man got to him.

An alert flashed on the HUD. _Warning: massive energy buildup._ And a quick one had been too much to hope for; a sphere of light came radiating out from the pile of rubble, throwing Iron Man against the wall with a horrible crunch as the concrete behind him cracked and dented.

Iron Man fell to the ground and inside Tony’s ears were ringing. “Ugh, ow. Well, at least my brain's not a scrambled egg. New psywave diffuser must be doing the trick.” Iron Man staggered to his feat and called out, “That the best you got?” He genuinely hoped it was. 

A cry of impotent fury, crackling with raw energy, rang through the burnt-out building. Tony braced himself for the worst but quickly realized that he wasn’t the focus of the attack when he heard a far less robotic voice call out in pain.

Tony focused in on the sound and saw the great monstrosity bearing down on a man who was holding him at bay with a shield. 

“Cap...” Tony could seen from the data on the HUD that MODOC was powering up for another blast. Before he could think he was acting.

His unibeam charged and fired, blasting MODOC, sending him flying through an already weakened wall and into the next--thankfully evacuated--rooms. Tony could hear him bellow with rage and then sputter out. He would be down for a while.

Tony turned his attention to the man in the cowl, taking deep steadying breaths as he rested on one knee. He looked up at Tony, at the faceplate of the Iron Man suit, and gave an exhausted smile. “Thanks for the assistance.”

Iron Man offered a hand up and Captain America took it. Standing face to face, Tony was able to get a better look at him this time. He was the spitting image of the man from the photos, though the costume was updated, leather over reinforced Kevlar, mostly standard issue SHIELD gear with a custom patriotic paint job. Tony’s first thought was that he could do better. The second was that he missed the wings.

“Didn’t mean to step on SHIELD's toes, but you left your dance partner all alone and I thought I’d cut in.” He nodded at the hole MODOC had left in the wall. It was still crumbling. A quick scan gave an estimate of twelve minutes before the building went down.

“Got thrown out of the building. Took a minute to get back up here,” he returned with a perfectly straight face.

“Well, with the elevator out of service and all...” Captain America smiled and hefted his shield on to his back. 

“Seems like we make a good team.”

“Better team if I trusted your bosses.” The Captain’s face was unreadable. Anything could have been going on under that cowl. Tony couldn’t tell, and it was just about the only thing the couldn’t scan for. Whatever Captain America was thinking, he seemed to come to a decision and fished something out of one of the pouches on his belt.

“Here.” Captain America held out a gloved hand; resting in it was a small flash drive. “This is what we know about what happened at the docks--and some records on the work they are doing to find the families of the victims--maybe you can make something out of it that we can’t.”

“SHIELD is just giving this to me?” The suit’s faceplate withheld Tony’s suspicious expression from Captain America, but he seemed to understand all the same. 

“I am giving it to you. Because I think it’s the right thing to do.” Tony nodded and took the drive from the outstretched hand. “We both want to take out the bad guys so that puts us on the same team as far as I’m concerned.”

“And SHIELD?” Tony open a little hatch in the arm of the suit and placed the drive inside for safe keeping.

“They’ll come around.” 

Both men turned suddenly as an audible crack came from what was left of the structure around them.

“This place is coming down.”

“Sooner than you know. We’ve got some men downstairs doing controlled demolition.”

“Well isn’t that convenient. Want a lift, or you planing to make a jump for it?”

“How?” The Captain looked Iron Man over curiously. 

“Here.” Tony circled an arm around the other man’s waist and soon they were airborne.

“Wow, this is pretty neat...” The almost innocent glee in the voice of Tony’s childhood hero made him so happy he was worried he might falter and drop him, but a gloved hand came up to grip firmly on the suit’s shoulder and Tony felt better for it. Tony took the long way around over a few buildings, letting his passenger enjoy the view of the city below before he took them down on the roof of a nearby apartment building.

“Thank you,” the Captain said, earnestly. The tiny amount of his face that showed under the cowl was red from the cold wind.

“Any time.” Tony smiled behind the metal face of the suit. “Can I ask you something? Are you really him? I mean it’s crazy, right, you can’t actually be the original Captain America, can you?”

There was that unreadable face again. Tony was relived when it broke into a smile. “What do you think?”

Tony looked him over and, wow, yeah, as impossible as it was, “You are, aren’t you?”

“I’ll see you around, Iron Man.”

“Yeah, next exploding building--” Tony watched as the Captain jumped down effortlessly onto a fire-escape and made his way down to street level, “it’s a date.”

 

\---

 

Steve made it back to the rendezvous point in good time. When he arrived he found that the ever-efficient SHIELD agents had an unconscious MODOC in a containment cage and the AIM members who weren’t on stretchers were in handcuffs. 

Steve’s post-mission battle report was brief, and of course left out most of what had gone on between Iron Man and himself. Silly as it was, the whole time he talked to the agent who took down his account of the night, he still felt a bit giddy from his brief flight. He had been in planes during the war, on helicopters now, and even sat out in the open areas of the Helicarrier, but there was still something thrilling about being in mid-air with nothing around or below you, just flying free. It was exhilarating. 

The night hadn’t been much fun before that, though. SHIELD was able to track down some communication that had been made through AIM channels regarding the shipment of the human bombs. The organization had kept up a respectable front for years, but recently had blown enough credibility with their increasingly insane projects that SHIELD had clearance to stage a good old fashioned raid on their new head quarters.

Unfortunately the raid happened during some sensitive experiments and by the time Steve had lead the charge into the labs to bring the head scientists into custody everything was already in flames. Most of the high-ranking personnel had made their escapes in their hovering cells.

Steve and his team were left with something that looked born out of a science fiction nightmare. A distorted image of man, head grotesquely overgrown and limbs shrunken to comical size. Steve would have been moved to laugh had the thing not been in the process of tormenting some AIM agent that had apparently earned its wrath.

Steve had hurled his shield at the creature. knocking from the air and sending it into some fancy looking equipment. It shrieked in rage and as soon as it recovered enough to emerge from the twisted pile of metal, turned on the one who had attacked it.

A horrible mental blast left Steve paralyzed and regretting underestimating the monstrosity as it bore down on him. Try as Steve might to fight against the mental bonds, he couldn’t resist when it hovered near and hauled him up by his arm, then spun about in the air and hurled Steve out of the large floor-to-ceiling window. Whether it was the impact or just luck Steve didn’t know, but he was able to break the mental paralysis in time to brace for impact as he flew into another window, this one in a neighboring skyscraper.

The people in the office where he had landed had all shouted and panicked, but one by one as the dust cleared they began to gather around him. As Steve regained his wits, laid out on the carpet, he could hear them murmuring. “Is that him--can’t be, he should be dead--but look at the shield--I think it _is_ him.” Finally a brave girl broke the ring around him and helped him to sit up, pressing a bottle of water into his hands. 

He thanked her and took it gratefully, gulping it down in one and then taking to his feet again. He gave the girl a nod and a smile and then ran for the stairs without a moment's hesitation. 

Even the stern face of the SHIELD agent taking the report cracked a smile at that part of the story. Steve probably would have thought it was funny too had his landing not hurt quite so much. He touched only briefly on the encounter with Iron Man. He was present, and helpful, and certainly didn’t receive anything in the way of top secret or sensitive information. Despite most people’s expectations of him, Steve cloud lie pretty convincingly when he needed to. 

After a quick change, Steve was on his bike driving home. It was one in the morning and he couldn’t think of anything but bed. Or almost. He took a turn down third and saw that the restaurant where he was supposed to have had dinner earlier was still open. It took another few blocks, but he stopped his bike, pulling to the side of the road.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and stared down at it for a long moment.

 _Are you still awake?_

He sent the question off to Tony and stared down at the little screen for a minute, waiting for it to light.

 _You know how I feel about sleep. What’s up?_ finally appeared on his screen. 

Maybe it wasn’t such a crazy idea, Tony and him. It was a new world. He had a tiny might-as-well-be magic box that sent letters and played music. People could fly without planes. Maybe the world wouldn’t end if Steve Rogers fell in love. 

Tony might have his troubles and he might have been young but Steve had been around the same age when his mother died and having Bucky at the time had never felt like a complication. Sometimes it was the only thing that got him through the nights when he felt small and useless in a world going to hell. Then in battle, having someone he loved fighting at his side was never a hindrance, losing him hurt like nothing else but never so much that he wish he'd never fought alongside him, and never so that he wished he never loved him. 

Maybe Tony and he could fight through his problems together.

_How about that burger now?_

_Yes! I’ll be there in fifteen. _came back most instantly, and Steve couldn’t stop himself from grinning.__

\---

“All I’m saying is that if you really want a decent hamburger you have to go to In-n-Out.” Tony gestured with a french fry in his hand, looking perfectly at home in the dim coppery light, lounging in the soft leather booth. The outside of the restaurant had done nothing to describe how nice it was inside. Not fancy the way Steve thought of fancy, with bow ties and shined shoes, but everything looked very modern, trendy and--well, expensive was really the best word for it, and the menu didn’t do any thing to argue with that.

“Are you telling me we just paid seventeen dollars a pop for less than decent hamburgers? I-- well, my grandfather would have been to eat on that for a month.” Tony shrugged, unfazed. The kid had been practically buzzing since he met Steve at the door. Steve was a little slap-happy himself, too tired to even think of sleep, adrenalin still humming through his veins from the fight and excited to be sitting across from Tony.

“You’d like it though, it’s all real simple. Just meat, cheese and spread. Nothing to keep you staring at the menu for fifteen minutes with that face of yours.” Tony emulated Steve's earlier look of confusion over half the things listed on the menu, most of which he thought had no earthly business being on a hamburger. “Only trouble with that is no avocado, and if you're in California there is no other way to go.”

“Is that what the green stuff is on mine?” Steve lifted the bun of what Tony had eventually insisted he order and eyed the substance cautiously. He doubted it would kill him, not too many toxins could, but it still didn’t look right to eat. 

“Uh, no, that is jalapeno pesto. It’s good, trust me.” Tony looked on expectantly so Steve put on a brave face and took a bite. It wasn’t actually that bad. Didn’t taste anything like any hamburger he’d had before, but he could see his way to liking it. It was a little weird and unexpected but the more he had the more he liked it, not unlike the young man sitting across from him.

“All right, so we’ll go some time?” 

“Huh?” Steve blinked, racing to keep up with Tony’s train of though. 

“In-n-Out. California. Everyone goes to LA, but I went to a conference with my dad in San Francisco once and that was a lot of fun. Oh but then we’d miss Disneyland—we have to do Disneyland, it's not all mouse ears, you know, they have a House of Blues there. So I guess we could make a long weekend of it and do both, what do you think?”

“Wait, you want to take me to California?”

“Um--yes? No? Why, is that weird?”

“I’m not a great judge Tony, but yeah, a little.” Tony pouted slightly, clearly thinking very hard, trying to find his misstep. Steve laughed kindly. “Why don’t we finish diner first and then see, yeah?”

“Sure, yeah.” He looked a little hurt and Steve felt bad. He reached his foot out under the table and touched Tony’s ankle with his own. 

“I think the rest of the teachers would give me a real earful if I was responsible for you missing more class. Maybe worse. Let’s keep the next one local, yeah?”

Tony lit up again and started rambling about a movie coming out soon that he wanted to see, something with lots of computer-made explosions, fast cars and half-dressed girls. It sounded truly horrible. Steve couldn’t wait to take him.

\---

“That really is a great bike.” Steve was half-sitting, half-leaning back against his beautiful old motorcycle in the parking lot under the street light.Tony thought it made a perfect picture. “Did you restore it yourself, or--”

“I worked on it a little, but I had some help. It was actually in really good shape when I got it so it’s just been upkeep.”

“You ever think about getting a new one?”

“Nah, she holds up just fine as long as I treat her right. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Tony smiled. He hadn’t looked at his phone in a while but it had to be close to three in the morning. Tony was a little amazed at how awake Steve seemed. Tony himself was fading out at the edges even after two sodas and a coffee after dinner--but he bet he’d had a more exciting night than Steve had staying at home painting or whatever. 

“This was fun, I’m glad you texted me. I was worried you--” _didn’t want me._ “Well, much better late than never.” 

“Me too. I mean, I’m glad that I did and I had fun.” The fact that he was swaying on the spot made it a little easier for Tony to move in closer to Steve. He could almost excuse it as a stumble. Steve steadied him with a large, strong hand on his shoulder.

“You doing okay there?” Steve smiled, and this was it, now or never. Tony pushed himself up on his toes and landed a kiss on the corner of Steve's mouth. He held there for a moment, braced against him, the cold of the night air on his back and the warmth radiating off of Steve in front. He counted out heartbeats in his head, each one making him more afraid that he had been wrong about everything. 

Then Steve’s hands were on Tony's hips and he was leaning down, pressing back into the kiss. Tony cheered inwardly. Tony Stark wrong? Never.

Steve pushed away first but when he did he handed Tony his helmet and told him unceremoniously to get on the bike.

“Finally.” Tony hadn't meant to say that out loud, but didn’t regret it when Steve laughed.

“Sure kid, if you can stay awake that long. Just try not to fall off the back of the bike, okay?”

“I’m taking that as a genuine offer,” Tony mumbled, already half dozing against the back of Steve’s coat. He counted quickly in his head and with the four straight days working, and today, he might have had twelve hours total in the last five days. He didn’t like his odds, but he would sure as hell give it his best.

“You do that.” Steve chuckled and revved up the engine.

\---

 

The first thing Tony felt was warm. Almost uncomfortably so. He squirmed experimentally but found himself unable to move. Against normal instinct this did nothing to cause him any worry; he felt safe above all else. He breathed in and--Steve. No mistaking it. It was something from another place, not like any cologne or after shave but a meeting of soap and skin and leather and sweat and just--Steve. 

Tony began to wake in increments. He could feel large arms circled around him; that would explain not being able to move. And it wasn’t too big of a leap to assume that the arms belonged to one Mr. Steve Rogers. 

He hadn’t sleep nearly enough, but warmth and light on his face were making it impossible to stay asleep. Slowly, memories of the night before began to form in his mind. He had made a valiant effort to stay awake and had actually managed to kiss Steve back through his door and in to his bedroom, walking on tip-toe as he did. 

The bed had been his downfall though. As soon as he manged to coax Steve onto the mattress he'd more or less fallen dead asleep, body finally giving out after days of mistreatment. But he was awake now, and more than eager to pick up where he had left off.

With a bit of wiggling Tony managed to turn in Steve's hold, the movement jostling him enough that Steve started showing signs of waking. Tony decided to help the process along and nuzzled into his neck, kissing what skin he could reach above the collar of Steve’s shirt.

Steve grumbled sleepily and then gave a little start. Tony sat up on his elbow, finally allowed out of the snuggle-death-grip, and grinned across at his bed mate. “Morning Mr. Steve.”

“Hey you, sleep well?” Steve was all bleary eyed and sleep mussed and maybe just blushing a little. It was all Tony could do not grab his phone and take a picture, because it was way too adorable. Some how he managed to restrain himself.

“Terrible. Some big guy was crushing me all night,” Tony teased. Steve fractionally withdrew and stopped looking right into his eyes in that nice really grounding way he had been doing.

“I was going to sleep on the floor, but I was pretty exhausted and I--”

“Hey, it’s fine, more than fine. I wanted this.” 

“People change their minds,” he answered, almost too evenly.

“Not this time.” Tony leaned close and pressed in to kiss Steve again, much nicer than the sloppy affair last night: soft and sweet with a little lick to Steve's bottom lip, promising more as he pulled away, coxing Steve to lean in for more. Yeah, that was good, Tony thought, that was the sort of kiss that no one could...There was a shift of weight on the mattress and Tony opened his eyes to see Steve sitting up.

“Wa--Where?” Tony’s considerable intellect yelled in response.

“Breakfast,” Steve answered, matter of fact, pulling off the boots he’d fallen asleep in.

“I don’t want breakfast, I want you,” Tony whined, grogginess and surprise striking him with an unfortunate case of blatant honesty.

“Too bad.” Steve smiled. This was a new smile, and Tony wasn’t entirely sure that he liked this one because it seemed to mean that he was at a serious disadvantage. “You fell asleep. So--”

“But--” Tony made a last hopeful grab, but Steve was already leaving the bed and all Tony got was a handful of blanket.

“So, I’m hungry and we are going to have breakfast.” Tony pulled the blankets back up around him, resigning himself to the idea--only Steve kept staring at him like he was supposed to be doing something other than lie there and be slightly sullen about Steve picking food over him.

“Come on, lend a hand.” 

“Seriously?” Tony pulled a pillow over his head.

“This isn’t a hotel.” And Tony could _feel_ the smile now, radiating through cotton and cheep fiber fill.

“God, you are hard work.” Tony rolled out of bed and forced himself to his feet. The smile was still there. Damn it all. “I’m not promising not to feel you up while you’re cooking.”

“Fine, then I’m not promising not to burn your eggs”

Tony trailed behind Steve, taking the blanket with him from the bed and wrapping it around himself. Steve started pulling things from the fridge and cupboards. Occasionally, he instructed Tony to hand him something, which Tony did, still yawning from time to time though mostly for show at that point.

Tony leaned back against the counter opposite where Steve stood at the stove laying bacon in a pan. He closed his eyes and just listened to the sizzling and the smell of the cured meat that started to fill the room. It was nice. It felt like home in the way Tony always thought it should be, like in some Norman Rockwell world, where people didn’t have kitchen staff or 6am meetings. Someplace like whatever dimension someone like Steve fell out of, where men abducted teenage boys in the night to feed them hot cocoa and tuck them safe into bed. Someplace with barbershops with the red and white poles out side. Someplace where people smiled and meant it.

“Hey, no falling asleep back there. In the corner, look.” Tony’s eyes snapped open and he looked as instructed.

“You got a coffee maker.” Steve spared a look away from the pans he had going to smile back at Tony’s look of surprise.

“Yeah, might have done.” Tony grinned wide. “Coffee’s in the cupboard on your right, filters should be right next to it.”

“Okay, yeah, you are officially my favorite person. Rhodey and Pep are just gonna have to--- oh damn it. Um, I got to check my messages. Would you--”

“I’ll make your coffee, Tony. Go tell your friends you’re alive.”

“Oh, actually I was just going to ask you to hang on a sec but,” Tony leaned up and kissed Steve on the cheek, “thanks.”

After about ten minutes of reading texts and listening to voicemails berating and chastising him, Tony finally sent texts to all offended parties. He was alive, he was safe, everything was fine. He slumped against the sofa. Rhodey had covered with his mom for Tony and--well Rhodey always forgave him, it was probably the guy's only flaw. Pepper on the other had had actually stopped sending messages at one point. A quiet Pepper was a terrifying thought and Tony was pretty sure that she would never talk to him again if he didn’t have that drive waiting in the lab for her. That could wrench a little forgiveness out of her, he was sure. Failing that, he had other plans in the works.

“So how bad is it?” Steve came in from the kitchen with two plates and a mug. Tony helped him set it out on the table.

“Oh, everyone wants to kill me. Nothing new.”

“That all? And here I let you of the hook in the kitchen for nothing.” Steve down sat next to Tony and dug into his own plate with enthusiasm. Tony poked a bit of egg with a fork experimentally and looked over at Steve. 

“I don’t normally eat breakfast.”

“Well you do today.” Tony shrugged. Steve had gone to the trouble, might as well.

Funny thing about appetite, when you ignored it for long enough it eventually just gave up and only reared its grumbly head when you were about to pass out. Long enough beforehand to at least shove a pop tart down your throat if you were lucky. But when you went and gave it a couple of bites of bacon it came back with a level of vengeance that could demolish a breakfast plate down to the toast crumbs.

Steve didn’t even try to hide a laugh when he caught Tony licking his plate. He stopping and looked up at him over the dish.

“Not much for manners at home?”

“Hey, you wouldn't let me lick anything else.” Steve went a bit pink but returned the little smirk Tony gave him.

“Didn’t say that, just breakfast first.” Tony set the plate aside and moved in closer to Steve. 

“Glad to hear it.” Tony smiled, and then Steve wrapped an arm around him and leaned down to kiss him, firm and sure and strong in a way that caught Tony off guard. He was more used to kissing that being kissed and being kissed like this, with what felt like determined purpose, was an altogether new experience. 

“You taste like bacon,” he whispered breathlessly when Steve pulled back.

“It that a good thing?” Steve chuckled. 

“Do you see me moving?” 

“You are the strangest guy I have ever met.” That was the good smile again, that earnest Steve smile that Tony was certain could light the city for a decade if he could work out the energy conversion ratios. 

“Good.” They were kissing again, Tony weaving fingers through Steve’s hair and sliding a hand up his thigh. 

“Dishes still need doing.” Steve teased with a little hint of a smirk.

“They can wait.” Tony cupped the front of Steve's jeans with his hand and watched his eyes widen. 

“Yeah?” Steve's breath hitched, so slightly that Tony would have missed it had they not been so close. He was glad he hadn’t. The little crack in control just made Tony want more than anything to see the man completely undone. 

“‘Til I’m done with you.” Tony rubbed his hand over Steve’s growing erection and grinned as he watched Steve's eyes fall closed and his kiss-flushed lips open wordlessly. And then--

“I don’t think I ever want you to be done with me.” Steve looked down at him with those stupid perfect too-blue eyes and Tony stopped, resting his hand on Steve thigh, because dealing with the fact that what was left of his heart felt like it was swelling up so big it would burst his rib cage, and giving a competent hand job at the same time, was more than even he could multitask.

“Okay.” Tony smiled, closed his eyes and sighed, trying get his brain to work again. “Yeah, that could work for me.”

Steve insisted after that they move to the bedroom and ignored Tony’s protest that they shouldn’t have left it to start. Tony got the idea that despite coming out ahead in enthusiasm he probably didn’t stand a chance of running this show, and let Steve take the lead. Let him set a slow pace, and pull off the sleep wrinkled shirt Tony wore, and—oh, that was right. 

Steve hadn’t seen that. 

Steve knew about the device that kept Tony’s heart beating. Tony had talked about it with him as much as he cared to talk about it with anyone. Accident, very sad, fine now, moving on. Seeing it was different, and for the first time Tony actually cared what someone thought about it. He held his breath and watched Steve’s hands. Looked for that twitch of hesitation that even the best actor couldn’t hide, the reason why he had always kept his shirt on with Whitney.

Steve just looked at him, face neutral, softy under-lit by the faint blue glow, his head tilled slightly. And then he surprised Tony by asking, “Can I touch it?” with a soft sort of reverence.

“If you want. It doesn’t hurt or anything.” Tony watched Steve’s fingertips softly trace the lines of scar tissue around the device, until Tony's eyes fell closed and he simply let himself enjoy the feel of calloused fingers playing softly over the sensitive skin. 

Steve placed his palm flat over the device and Tony opened his eyes to see him staring with wonder at the light that seeped through his fingers. “It doesn’t weird you out at all?” Tony asked quietly. 

“No, not at all,” Steve said, surprised at the question. “It keeps you alive, so I love it.” 

“Steve...” Tony started to laugh and let his head fall on to Steve’s shoulder. “God, you really need to stop being perfect because it’s a little disgusting.” 

“I’ll try.” Steve wrapped an arm round and rubbed his back, dragging a thumb down his spine.

“You do that.” Tony smiled into Steve’s collarbone and, decideding to make good use of his position, traced his tongue lightly over it until it disappeared under Steve's shirt. “Your turn now?”

Steve nodded and lifted his shirt over his head.

“Wow.” And the first thought that came to mind before logic could catch up was 'that _has_ to be photoshopped.' 

“What?” Steve looked distinctly nervous and Tony made an effort to stop staring dumbly.

“Nothing, just. Damn. You’re not allowed to wear shirts anymore.” Steve chuckled, obviously relived.

“Really now?”

“You did say I could dress you. I think choosing not to dress you falls under that too.”

“Tony.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Kay.” 

Steve moved in to kiss Tony and started working the buttons on his trousers. For the first time since Tony set his sights on Steve he felt a twinge of nervousness. It wasn’t like this was new—well, parts were. He’d never actually made it farther than his with a guy before but the basics he imaged would be roughly the same. He’d had enough video instruction to know what was up--but this was different. Steve was different. It felt like this mattered a lot more to him that Tony was used to from people who seemed to treat sex as something to do on a dare, or to piss off their parents.

But the nerves were quickly pushed away by anticipation as Steve tugged off Tony’s jeans and underwear. Tony made a reach for the button of Steve’s trousers but his hands were quickly moved away. Steve pulled Tony in close against him, almost into his lap, and kissed him all over his neck and shoulders. Tony squirmed in protest, wanting desperately to carry on with what he’d been doing, but all that served to do was rub his rapidly hardening cock against Steve’s stomach.

He whimpered, wholly without dignity, but Steve’s hands stayed firm, moving up and down Tony's back. He resigned himself to just enjoy it, let himself soak in the attention. He shifted up closer, putting himself fully in Steve’s lap, oh, and there was an advantage. Tony experimentally moved his hips, feeling Steve’s cock straining against his trousers under him. Steve gasped and Tony ground down harder, chuckling softly in to Steve’s ear as he did.

“You’re a terrible kid, you know that?” Steve griped Tony’s hips on either side, easing him off.

“Oh yeah, totally aware.” Tony smiled and then gasped. Steve had undone his pants and, pulling Tony's hips in close, grasped both his own cock and Tony's in his large, strong hand. He stroked them slowly, up and down at a measured pace. Tony leaned forward, resting his forehead on Steve’s shoulder, just watching and trying to remember to breathe. There was something so beautifully erotic about the act itself, even outside of the wonderful stimulation, that Tony was having a little trouble keeping it together.

Tony shut his eyes as he felt something in his stomach began to tense and tremble in that familiar way and all he could think was, _it’s too soon I want to be doing this for hours--No, I want to be doing this forever._

Tony burried his face in Steve’s neck and tried to hold out as long as he could. He lowered his own hand and ran it over Steve’s, over both their cocks, bushing his thumb over the tip of Steve’s. Steve’s hand started moving faster and after a moment of fumbling between them they each ended up stroking the other off.

Tony didn’t last much longer with Steve’s focused attention on him. He shuddered and slumped against him, but still determinedly keep working Steve through to his own orgasm, wanting desperately to do this right for him. When Steve finally did come Tony almost joined Steve calling out, just out of triumph. After he brought the sticky evidence of his accomplishment smeared on his hand up to his mouth and gave a tentative lick. Not bad, he thought and grinned at Steve who just gaped dumbly in answer.

“Like that?” Tony waggled his eyebrow in a way that was probably more adorable than suggestive, “give it a few and then I’ll totally go down you, been wanting to do that since the first day I saw you in class.” Steve laughed and offered Tony his shirt to clean up with.

“You really don’t have an ounce of shyness in you.” Tony took it gratefully while Steve made the rest of the way off with his trousers.

“Probably not.” Tony curled up to Steve’s side, resting his head on his shoulder. It was really all too picturesque to bear thinking about so he didn’t, contenting himself to listing to Steve’s heart, beating steadily enough to time experiments by.

“So you’ve...before, I mean.” 

“Oh yeah.” Tony grinned and then though better of it. “Er wait, God, I sound like a whore. Once with one girl I sort of knew, and I had a girlfriend a little while ago, we were sort of a regular thing--it’s it weird me talking about this now--no? Well anyway, only ever made out with a guy before.”

“Was it your friend?” Steve asked, voice hesitant. 

“Rhodey? Oh wow--no, no way he is like a brother, that would be way too weird. No, it was just a guy, name was Arron--Alex--Alan--something. Bunch of kids, we were in a limo going somewhere and--well they pay the guys to drive, not to babysit and the things come stocked with champagne so--I think I was fourteen at the time and I didn’t really see kids my own age much back then so I really wanted them all to like me. A girl dared me to kiss one of the other guys and well, we got kinda into it, really into it, he was cute and it felt good and the girls were getting excited so what the hell, we kept going at it and I think eventually we just forgot anyone else was there until the car stopped and we remembered where we were.”

“That’s almost sweet, Tony.” Steve petted Tony's hip with his hand, stroking his hipbone with his thumb, sending little ticklish shivers through Tony that threatened to turn into the start of round two.

“Yeah, wasn’t so much for him. One of the girls took a picture with her phone and well, we were all the son or daughter of someone, only reason we were all hanging out together. But the picture ends up getting out and our dads find out. The other guy, he really catches hell for it. No one can prove anything, but he next anyone saw of him he had his nose broken in a skiing accident--yeah, I know.”

“And you?” Tony could hear that Steve was holding his breath and feel the hand on his hip grip protectively. Tony smiled, grateful for that. For all that he did talk quite a lot, he never talked much about himself, not like this. It was nice that someone cared.

“Heh, my dad sat me down and told me he was proud of me for a very embarrassing hour, and then donated thirty thousand dollars to PFLAG.” Tony felt Steve relax and laughed softly. “It never ended up getting to the papers. The other guy's dad saw to that probably. But yeah, sometimes I feel like I was really lucky to have my dad. He wasn’t perfect, I found that out, but I guess I’m enough of a mess now. I can’t even imagine how I would have turned out otherwise. Even if he made mistakes before, at least he loved me.”

There was a moment of quiet and then Tony burst out, “Oh Jesus, I’m sorry, I uh, I don’t normally do that. You know, feelings. Seriously embarrassed.”

Steve just pulled him in closer. “It’s okay. I told you you can talk to me, and I meant it. Any time.” He chuckled. “It’s nice to know there are at least somethings you can be shy about.”

“Yeah? You like shy? I could do shy. Blush and bite my finger, that sort of thing?”

“You are really horrible.” Steve reached up and ruffled Tony’s hair, ignoring his squirm of protest.

“It’s my character flaws that make me so lovable.” He grinned. “See, totally paying attention in English.” 

“Oh dam--darn it. Tony you were supposed to be in school today weren't you?” Tony just laughed--up until Steve hit him with a pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the main differences between the IM:AA verse and all others seems to be that Howard is not a physically and emotionally abusive scumbag. While I have no warm feelings for Howard in any other verse, I like him in this one and wanted to touch on the fact that him being a good man make for a much more sane and emotionally stable Tony, even after his death.


	6. Chapter 6

Two days. Two fantastic days Tony spent holed up in Steve’s little apartment, watching movies and eating Steve’s wonderful meals and never quite managing to keep their hands off each other. Tony realized at one point that it was longest stretch of time he he'd had in ages of just relaxing and not worrying about something going on somewhere else. But Steve was right. He had to go back to school, and more than that he had to get back to work. All of the data compiling and software formatting on the new project he had set to run while he was out would have been done over a half a day ago even on the outside estimates.

He had to get back to it. No matter how appealing the idea of hiding away in Steve’s bed and pretending to be someone who wasn't Iron Man might be.

School was fine. With his head clear from the days of rest and being well-fed and cared for, Tony’s attention was far sharper, even with things that didn’t normally catch his interest. Not that he would ever admit that to Steve the next time he forced him into a chair to eat. Tony couldn’t wait to see him again, it was like a sickness, it was beyond embarrassing, and he couldn’t care less--he had a Steve and everything was awesome.

He called Rhodey and Pepper to meet at the lab later in the afternoon, after he ran through some make-up tests and extra credit assignments with a few of his teachers. He wondered as he nodded his apologies to his English teacher--once again imploring Tony to just try and apply himself--how things would work on Tuesday when he had class with Steve. It could be fun. He didn’t want to get the guy in any trouble, but a little teasing when no one was looking might prove very entertaining.

Finally back at the lab after a long day Tony waited for his friends.

Rhodey came first and Tony got off with no worse than punch to the shoulder and an assurance that he was in fact a complete idiot, as though some how he didn’t know that by now. 

Pepper was a different story.

“I just came to give you the info I found, it wasn’t a lot but it took me hours to get so I didn’t want it to go waste.” She sat down stiffly in a chair and crossed her arms.

“Pepper, look, I’m sorry, I tried to tell you before but--”

“It’s fine.” She held up her hands, “Tony, you can do whatever you want. You can starve yourself for days and not let us know if you are alive or dead and have weird illegal boyfriends, I don’t care.”

“I--” Tony tried again but she carried on. 

“What I do care about is helping you stop bad guys. If you don’t want to--”

“Pepper!” Tony finally resorted to shouting at her.

“What!” she shouted back.

“Here.” Tony handed her the drive he’d received from Captain America.

“What is this?” she asked, anger suddenly gone from her voice, usurped by curiosity.

“It’s from SHIELD. All their info on the human weapons at the docks.”

“Tony..” He held his breath while she looked at the little drive. “This. Is. Awesome!” She shouted and bounced out of her chair. Tony smiled, relived that he was back in her good graces. “There is a chance with this I could get a look at how their system is organized and it should make it a lot easier; not to mention I’ll, like, totally be able to get you the guy behind this now, no problem. Wait. How did you get this?”

“Yeah,” Rhodey chimed in, “SHIELD doesn’t really do sharing well with people they do like and, well, they pretty much hate you. Or Iron Man anyway.”

“Captain America gave it to me.” Tony smiled.

“Woah.” 

“Oh my god, seriously?”

“Yeah, I know, right?” Tony closed his eyes for a moment. That had been seriously cool. The whole time he was with Steve he’d wished he could say something about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Steve so much as he just didn’t want him becoming part of all this, team Iron Man as Pepper like to call it. It wasn’t a safe occupation and besides, it would change things. Tony liked having something outside of the suit. Something that was just for him.

But he could talk about it now and did so happily, telling his friends about the runin with AIM and Captain America in energetic detail. 

“Wait, you took him flying?” Rhodey said in disbelief. “You don’t think,” he actually looked around the room that was empty but for the three of them, ”you don’t think he would come hang out with us, do you? Uh, you know, like for a strategy meeting or something. Did he say anything about the suit, whoa, does he know about War Machine?” Rhodey’s eyes were comically wide as he asked.

“I don’t know Rhodey, we only talked for a little but, yeah,” Tony said, rather smugly, “he seemed pretty impressed.” 

Pepper eyed him strangely for a moment and then piped up, “Oh no, Tony, did you hit on Captain America?”

“No! Jeez, Pepper what do you take me for?” 

“I don’t know, you have your illegal old man boyfriend now. You're like a super villain, no one knows what you are capable of.”

“Yeah, Steve’s not a ninety-year-old icon of American freedom.” Not that Cap wasn’t good looking for a ninety-year-old, but even Captain America couldn’t be better than what Tony had. He grinned stupidly and Pepper rolled her eyes.

“You are horrible.”

“Not the first person to tell me that, Pep. Come on, we've got work to do.”

\---

Hours later they had only made it through half the data on the drive. It wasn’t a fun read, and they all decided to call it a day before they got too depressed over the cold detached accounts of the grim situation. Pepper, having the strongest constitution for this sort of thing, took the drive home to work more when she had the chance. 

Tony had copied off any relevant tech stuff to analyze for himself and stayed behind to work some more, promising up and down that he would sleep in his own bed that night. He’d even set a timer to give him alerts when it was getting late so he wouldn’t get caught up and forget.

When computer alerted him that it was nearly 9 PM, Tony decided to try to finish up in an hour. He pulled out his phone and after checking a few updates from Pepper sent off a message to Steve.

_I’ve been miserably responsible all day, you’d be very proud. See you on Saturday?_

Tony smiled for a moment to himself and then dove back into his work. trying to wrap up the last little tweaks to the new circuit design. He was surprised when the 10 PM alert went off; it had hardly felt like a minute, but good to his word he set down his soldering gun. 

He checked his phone for a reply and--oh. Nothing. Steve probably had a late class or another big project, Tony assured himself, ignoring the little twist in his chest. He picked up the soldering gun again; maybe he could just stay another few minutes. He doublechecked to make sure the volume was all the way up on his ringer and threw himself wholeheartedly back into his work.

At one in the morning Tony had to sneak himself back to the house. There was still no word from Steve. Maybe he’d just had an early night, That seemed logical. Maybe he didn’t feel good; it was getting colder and he’d mentioned something about being sick a lot as a kid. It was probably that, Tony told himself as he lay awake on his bed, wishing he was still in his lab to keep from wishing he was still with Steve.

 

\---

 

“Tony, man, you need to come home. I can only cover for you so much with my mom. She is not going to believe me if she doesn’t see you asleep in your bed soon. ” Rhodey watched Tony, goggles on, shielding his eyes while he ignored him for whatever the hell he was working on now. Great, Rhodey thought, because talking Tony into anything was hard enough when he was willing to acknowledge that anyone else was actually in the room.

It had been a bad couple of days. Tony had woken up on Saturday in a miserable mood. He didn’t do much but stare into his coffee, even when Rhodey did his best to bait him in to saying something. Anything. Rhodey was only met with a shrug or a grumble about spending the day in the lab and a request to handle anything minor that came up.

That was fine. Attempted bank robbery--he just happened to be in the right place for a crazy guy who'd got his hands on some big guns. War Machine’s were bigger and it didn’t last long. Then it was Monday morning and he still hadn’t seen Tony. 

So he swung in after school to try to get Tony to come out into the sun for a minute. Only now Tony wouldn’t even talk to him.

“Hey, unless you want to tell my mom about the suit.” Cheap shot, but what's a guy supposed to do?

“No, no way. It’s fine,” Tony finally answered, he lifted the goggles from his eyes. And then Rhodey kinda wished he hadn’t. The guy looked exhausted, sick, way worse than normal, even creepy-hermit-Tony-normal. “I’ll come. It’s almost done anyway, I just need to get Pepper in here.”

“Yeah, about Pepper. She has been waiting to talk to you.”

“Yeah? Good. Works out for everyone. I’ll be ready for her tomorrow. Anything else?” He was trying to smile so Rhodey took pity. Whatever the hell was up, he’d just let Tony get through it.

“No, nothing, I’ll see you latter man.”

\---

Tuesday even was weirder than Monday. Tony showed up for school, first period, bright and early without any prompting, freshly showered and in clothes nicer than the normal jeans and t-shirt he’d throw on every day. He sat attentively all through the morning. Rhodey was starting to worry that he might have been replaced with an alien shape shifter or something.

Pepper was strangely quiet, especial considering that Tony was giving up nothing about his recent project or why he needed her. It wasn’t anything like her to just drop something. Pod people everywhere, it was the only explanation.

In third period there was an announcement that Mr. Roger’s class was cancelled for both days this week, For a moment Rhodey was just happy for a free period and turned to his friends with a smile, but it soon disappeared when he saw the look on Tony’s face, and on Pepper’s as she looked at Tony.

No one really said anything, and Tony took off without explanation at lunch.

\---

Rhodey found Tony in his lab after school; the nice clothes he’d been wearing were covered in black grease and Rhodey couldn’t even guess what else. 

“Oh, hey,” Tony offered when he came in, which was better than the silent treatment before. 

“Hey. Almost ready to do the big unveiling?” Rhodey didn’t know exactly what was up with Tony and the teacher guy, but he knew his friend better than anyone and this was not him at his best. Trying too hard too seem okay was pretty much the last step before bottom. 

“Something like that.” And ouch, he really wished Tony wouldn’t try to smile; it was a little painful just to watch. 

“You hungry, man?” That was a stupid question, Tony never admitted it even if he was. 

“No, just need to get this polished.” Of course. Rhodey briefly wondered if there was ever a time in his life when he wasn’t worried about Tony in some way or another.

“Okay, I’ll see you latter. Come home tonight, seriously. Don’t make me get in a suit and drag you out.” Tony laughed and it was even worse than watching him try to smile.

\---

“Pepper, I’m seriously worried about him.” Rhodey sat outside in his yard next to Pepper. She was tapping at her tablet while Rhodey laid out and enjoyed what was left of the sunshine. The days were getting shorter and the air was cold; there wouldn’t be much more sun and warmth ahead of them this year so it was worth taking the time to enjoy now.

Pepper looked up, worry straining her face. She bit the end of her stylus, obviously dying to say something but stopping herself. “I know, I know, me too, really, you have no idea. It’s--Oh damn it, I wasn’t going to say anything until I got a chance to talk to Tony but...”

“But what, Pepper?” 

“It’s that Steve guy. I--umm--might have kept researching him even after Tony told me not to.” She smiled sheepishly. Rhodey was anything but surprised.

“Yeah? So what, you read his facebook page?”

“Ugh, no, he doesn’t even have one but-- yeah, I might have done a background check on him and run his name thought the FBI database.”

“Pepper!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but--”

“Oh jeez, he’s not some kinda super-villain is he? Man, Tony is gonna--”

“No, that’s the thing. I can’t find anything on him. But his records are weird. They were so spotless it didn’t sit right with me. And so I kept looking and I’m pretty sure everything is fake. I mean everything. Nothing about the guy adds up right if you look at it hard enough. Like, the high school he was supposed to have graduated from burned down a year before he was even born. And there is other stuff too. Nothing criminal, but, well--”

“I get you. The guy has being lying to Tony.” This was probably the last thing their friend needed right now.

“We have to tell him, don’t we?” Rhodey nodded. They both knew it wouldn’t be pretty, but Steve Rogers could be a threat and they had to make Tony aware of it. “I mean, I don’t know what’s going on with them, I never asked, didn’t really think it was my business if he didn’t want to say, but he’s been--”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Not good.”

He sighed. “This is gonna kill him.”

“So could not knowing.”


	7. Chapter 7

Everything was a blinding, bleached-out white, and all Tony could hear was screaming. He wondered who was so scared as the sound got closer and closer, until finally he realized that the scream was coming from his own mouth. There was sand under him and little ugly twisted worms gleaming in the harsh light all around. Superheated sand fused into glass, his mind supplied.

There was flaming wreckage everywhere, metal turned into horrific bent and battered chunks of could-be modern art. Every thing was hot: the sun in the sky, the sand under his feet and the fires burning all around him.

Tony walked on without direction until suddenly he remembered where he was. It was the airplane; they had just crashed. Somehow that must be where he was. The realization was so brilliantly clear in his mind. He began to shout for his father, screaming out as he ran through the wreckage, screaming until his throat was raw.

There was nothing. No answer.

Then he saw something in the distance. There was a form hovering in the air. Tony ran towards it and as he neared he could see the shining red and gold of the Iron Man suit. And under it a body laid out in the sand.

“Dad!” he called out to the still form, fearing the worst, running as fast as his legs would take him, the sand making his steps slow and awkward.

Reaching the body he could see it wasn’t his father. He was confused and suddenly very scared. Tony knelt down, turned the body over to face up and saw what he knew it must be. Steve lay there, eyes open and unseeing, blood on his face, around the mouth, his stupid beautiful mouth. And all Tony could think was, he isn’t ever going to smile again, I’m never going to see his smile again. 

And he knew why. He held Steve's body in his arms, as though there was anything left in the still form to to protect, and glared up at the suit that hovered above them, silent and emotionless.

“I just wanted one thing! You couldn’t let me have just one goddamned thing!” Tony screamed up at the impassive, shining face.

\---

With a start, Tony woke up and nearly fell out of his chair.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly subtle,” Tony groaned to himself, rubbing his face with his hands. 'Coffee now' was his next and only thought until he was sitting back down with a cup in his hand.

He glanced at the monitor. Six PM. Great. What day, he wondered.

He pulled out his phone and stared at it. He briefly considered taking the thing apart to see if it was still working right. He knew it was working fine. So he sat still, thumb poised over the call icon. One ignored text. Two days off from work. No sign of him over the weekend. It didn’t really sound like anything to get worked up about, but this was Steve. 

Steve, who was polite and kind and considerate to a fault. Steve, who made Tony breakfast and once spent half an hour drawing his foot. Steve who got a coffee maker when he didn’t drink coffee just on the chance that Tony would come to his apartment again. Tony might have only known him for a couple of months, but he knew he wasn’t the sort of guy to just disappear.

And that was worse. So much worse. Because it meant that something was wrong. Tony could have handled being rejected, Steve walking out of his life never to be seen again. He could get over it, maybe not easily but he’d lived through more traumatic things. But Steve being hurt, kidnapped, dead. Tony physical tensed at the thought, feeling his stomach begin to twist and burn. 

He needed to eat. He needed to sleep in a bed. He needed to find Steve.

He looked at the phone again. Then sat up and began to type.

_“Hey, what’s with you getting on my case and then skipping out for the week? Am I a bad influence? ;)”_

Tony sat back into the chair trying to calm himself. Willing Steve to respond, even if just to tell him to fuck off and lose his number. There was nothing, just as he knew there wouldn’t be.

Police scanner turned up nothing all weekend, no missing persons reports for anyone who even looked like Steve. He was just gone, like Tony had imagined him from the start. Tony wondered for a second if he was actually that crazy, but didn’t want to stop working long enough to do any serious assessment on the issue.

He’d been productive at least, driven on by thoughts of people gone missing, their minds burned out to be used by someone as weapons. He stubbornly refused to stop until he had wrung some kind of solution out of the data, the cold analysis of the horrible things that had been done the bodies and minds of people who would never see home again. And he felt better for having something to focus on, something to distract him, a puzzle in which to lose himself. Because as long as he was working on stopping more people from getting hurt, he didn’t have to think about Steve being one of them.

Biology wasn’t Tony’s strongest science but he could get by, so even though this was all organic it didn’t take him too long to notice methods that were startlingly similar to the controller disks that AIM had tricked him into working on after that bid for Tony's services at the job fair. He knew the devices inside and out, and could see how that science had let to what was in front of him. 

But this technology was leaps and bounds ahead of what it had been when Tony last saw it. Tony imagined that Sandhurst was working with someone else, joined up with whoever would fund him, or another team was piggy-backing on his work independently of him. There was no way Sandhurst could have done this one on his own, cast out of AIM; he just wouldn’t have had the resources, because as horrible as it all was it was also completely brilliant. Part of Tony couldn’t help but be impressed.

It was nanobots that started the job. Tony didn’t have much firm evidence to support that conclusion, but it seemed the best way of going about it. The bots could be given as an injection or packed in a dart gun. Terrifyingly effective delivery method, nanites were. 

Their job was more terrifying still. Once inside the body, they set up an organic crystal lattice that laid over and interconnected with parts of the brain; it would act as a receiver for input. After that was done the nanites travelled down into the body and changed it, harnessed the body's energy and weaponized it. Like a temporary mutation, sort of; it was a little more complicated, but that would be how Tony would end up explaining it to anyone else. 

But the change was unstable. The nano bots would disintegrate as soon as the process got started and after they were gone the effects would only last for a while. Tony guessed six to twelve hours, based on the decay rates in the files, depending on how much energy they used. As the crystal broke down it decomposed into some nasty substances that permanently damaged the brain tissue it was affecting, so the victim of the procedure was just left empty, a receiver with no signals.

But at the end of the day the only thing that actually mattered was finding a way to stop it. And after all his work Tony was pretty sure he had done that very thing.

He looked over the wire framework of ghostly glowing blue lines on the screen of his monitor–a 3D model of the new suit that sat ready to fly in the docking chamber. 

Pepper’s suit. 

He’d owed it to her for too long now. She had proven herself again and again and never once shrunk away from a fight or from hard work. When Tony realized that he would need to build a new suit from the ground up to deal with this new threat, there had been no doubt in his mind who the pilot would be. He had never been especially great at showing people exactly how much they meant to him--mostly because not too many people had meant much to him up until recently--but he hoped this would let her know how much he did appreciate her sticking by him.

The only thing that was missing was the pilot, and she was on her way. 

An alert on the big monitor told him that she was approaching and he tried to put on his best face. The big metal door slid open and she walked in the lab. Smile, Tony, he commanded himself, and did so with every ounce of will he could manage. This was going to be huge for her and he couldn’t see ruining it.

“Hey Pep, got anything new?”

“Uh, yeah actually. I do, but um, Tony, can we talk about something first?” 

“Is it the project? Because it’s done, that’s why I called you here. I just--” Pepper looked at him with the saddest face that Tony thought he had ever seen her wear.

“No Tony,” she started quietly and he knew he wasn’t going to like this, “it’s about your... It’s about Steve.” Tony’s attention snapped onto her so suddenly that he could actually see her jump back a bit.

“What is it?” he asked as neutrally as possible, begging _please, please, if anything can listen to me, let him be alive_ desperately in his head.

“I know you asked me not to look him up but, well, I did, and I’m sorry but you need to know what I found.” Not dead, at least there was that, but the last thing that Tony really wanted to hear right now was about how many parking tickets Pepper found out Steve ha. 

“Not now, Pepper. Not this. I can’t-- We have too much else going on. I’ve got the--” 

“Tony, you need to hear this,” Pepper cut him off. “I looked up some of his records and at first they looked almost too sanitary. Like the guy was just, perfect. But then I checked some things out closely and there were bad inconsistencies. Like it was--”

“I asked you not to do this, Pepper. I know Steve, he is a good guy. I don’t care what you think you've got on him.”

“Tony please, I know you care about him. It’s-- I mean, I was glad, really, I know I gave you a hard time and you couldn’t have picked a more complicated situation to get into, but even though you don’t even seem to care that you could both get in a lot of--” She stopped and took a breath, “I was glad he made you happy.” Past tense. Bad. Her eyes were so sad that Tony started to get worried again. 

“So, just stop then.” 

“No, I have to tell you. I know that he-- that you haven’t been able to get ahold of him and, oh Tony I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to find anything, I really didn’t, but I don’t think he is who he said he is.” There was a numb sort of anger that was crawling its way up through Tony’s nervous system. He thought of the control crystals; he wondered if it felt like this. Being taken over.

“Do you have any proof?” If she had, she would have led with it. He wanted her to leave.

“Tony, it’s not really that simple.” 

Yes it was.“So that’s a no. I told you, Steve is--he is good. Leave him alone. He didn’t do anything wrong. I am telling you: this is over right now.” Steve was sick or hurt or dead somewhere. Some horrible thing had happened to him. Something that Iron Man wasn’t there to stop, something Tony couldn’t-- Pepper put her hand on his shoulder and Tony looked up at her, unable to stop the horrible desperate feeling he was drowning in from showing all over his face. Tony wrenched away from her sympathy—her pity--whatever it was, it was the last thing he wanted. 

“Tony, I’m sorry, but the timing, he could be involved in this. He could have been spying on you. Damn it Tony, look at me, you can’t ignore this.”

“Get out.” 

“But you needed--”

“I don’t need anything. Get out, Pepper. Now.”

Pepper sucked in a shaking breath and stood stiffly on the spot for a moment. Then she exhaled and reached into her bag. Pepper placed a tablet on the table. She spoke as evenly as she could manage.

“Argentina.” Tony looked up at that, the word so out of place from the rest of the conversation that curiosity overrode the compulsion to sulk. “You said that it might be Sandhurst. Well, I found him in Southern Argentina. I think he's got some pretty scary guys backing him too. It was the money transfers that gave him away, and there were a lot, and big ones too.”

Tony reached out and picked up the pad, looking it over, stubbornly keeping his head down as Pepper turned and walked out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

A black unmarked helicopter came in low over a landscape of evergreen trees. Large snow-capped mountains sat solid in the distance and a sharp chill hung in the air. When Steve got the order that they were going down to South America, he had expected desert or jungle, but the mission briefing quickly corrected him. Still, he couldn't help but be surprised by how much the landscape below put him in mind of a postcard of the rocky mountains he used to have as a boy. 

Natasha stood silent at his side as he looked out of the open door, feeling the biting cold against the exposed parts of his face. It felt like only moments ago that he was in a warm apartment with Tony in his arms, enjoying the laziest couple of days he’d probably ever had in his life. But not long after Tony left, the call came in from SHIELD and Steve was gone. 

Fury had briefed them quickly before sending them on their way. All the details could be consumed en route; time was always always a factor. The minute they knew something, they only had so long before the other guys caught up, and once they knew that SHIELD knew any advantage was lost. It was the same game that Steve knew from long ago. Sometimes it was nice to know things didn’t change. This wasn’t one of those times. 

“Intel gathered from the raid on AIM has pointed to Basil Sanhurst, AKA the Controller. Looks like he is now working for Hydra. I trust that no one in this room likes the idea of Hydra having any new buddies who can control people's minds, so we are going down to his little getaway in the Andes to kindly persuade him to come home to our good ol’ US of A.” 

That was the mission statement given, and from that moment on the order was absolutely no civilian contact until the completion of the mission. It was standard procedure, but Steve had never really thought about what that meant when you had someone back home until now. Back during the war everyone Steve really cared about was fighting with him, but now it was different.

The time Steve had spent with Tony was amazing. When Tony was around Steve felt like a person again, a real normal guy just living, and it didn’t mater that music sounded funny or that people spent more time looking at phone screens than at each other's faces. It didn’t matter because Steve had something, someone he really cared about in the world again. He was alive.

So he had it all figured out. The moment he got home Steve was going to find Tony, pull him into his arms and, if it was okay with him, never let go. Steve would tell him everything about Captain America and let someone else sort out the paperwork, red tape or whatever else came from it. All he knew was that he had lost too many things not to hold on to this wonderful guy he’d found as tightly as possible.

“Focus, Captain. We are approaching in five,” came a chill voice from beside him, just loud enough to cut through the noise from the chopper. Natasha was right. Captain America needed to be focused on the mission and anything that Steve might have been feeling had to come second. Get it done and get home. That was always a good plain.

It had been easier to send out a helicopter from a base in Chile and work their way through the forest from a drop point. A helicopter could be there for any reason, but a stealth plane or the like would be a dead giveaway that something was up. The pilot got them in as close as she could without raising supposition. That meant at least a day or two hiking through the wilderness to find the Hydra base concealed in the mountains. 

Unfortunately, another thing that was a big red flag was parachutes. Steve took a deep breath, bracing himself for an experience that he knew would not be deadly, but which was certainly not going to feel too good. 

“Are you ready, Widow?”

“Can’t wait to have your arms around me, big guy?” Her lip twitched into a smirk and Steve wondered why it was she wanted to make this harder on him than it already was by making him blush on top of everything else. Nat was a funny kinda dame.

The pilot brought them in as low as he dared above the tree tops. Steve made double sure his shield was secure on his back and with a deep breath he grabbed Natasha and held her tight to his chest, bending her head down and using his arms to keep her neck and spine protected. He got the go sign and bailed out backwards into the trees.

The impact going down wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined it would be. Every so often he would slam into a tree branch and it would splinter against his shield. It absorbed the impact and slowed their fall, so all he had to really worry about was keeping his head tucked in, his knees bent, and keeping Natasha safe.

Their landing was not glamorous but after a moment Steve was able to sit up, so he called that a success. The landing wasn’t glamorous for _him_ ,he amended, when he looked to see Natasha standing there looking down at him, perfectly poised and impatiently waiting for him to get on his feet.

“Right,” he rubbed the back of his neck and stood up, happy to find himself in working order, “let’s go.”

\---

Night fell sooner than ether of them expected, but they had made good progress through the forest by the time it did. Steve suggested they stop to rest but Natasha only mocked him for not being able to keep up with her. He’d give them a couple more hours. He had no doubt that she could keep pace with any other solider, but there was no point running themselves into the ground before they got to their target. He wanted her at her best when they moved on the Hydra base.

When he insisted they set up camp for a rest she spent another half hour using a device to scan the area for traps and bugs. Once she was satisfied they laid out thin bedrolls by the side of a large boulder.

In spite of the cold, they had no fire--it wouldn’t be practical with how close they were now--or any other comfort aside from simply being able to lay out and catch sleep in shifts and eat some rations. At least there was company, but while Steve and Natasha had almost become what you could call friends during his stint as her parole officer, she took missions extremely seriously and had been silent for most of the journey.

“Have you ever done a mission like this before?” Steve asked casually, trying to start some sort of conversation. She looked over at him and stared for a moment harshly before answering.

“I’m perfectly capable of executing my part of the mission as given.” 

“I know that, that’s why I asked for you to come with me on this.” She looked surprised and Steve smiled because it was something that didn’t happen too often. “I like working with my friends.”

Natasha sighed and shook her head. “You are a very strange man, Captain.” Steve decided to take it as a complement. 

There was another stretch of silence and then, “You got anyone back home, Nat?” She just arched an eyebrow at him and he went on, trying to explain. “That’s just what you would ask, back during the war; guys usually liked any chance to pull out a photo or talk about their girl. It’s what kept a lot of us going.” 

“I’ve had my share,” she answered dismissively. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, I know. I--” She looked at Steve for a long moment before deciding to continue, “I had a partner but things got complicated.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, he was an idiot.” Steve frowned at the bitter reply and then she rolled her eyes. “I really don’t need this from the guy with the child bride.”

“I--what?”

“Your little boy toy.”

“He’s not a toy, Nat,” he protested “I think--no, I do, I love him.”

“Spare me.”

“It’s not a bad thing. It’s all legal now, at least in New York. I looked it up.” And there was the surprised look again, two in one night had to be some kind of record. Steve didn’t smile this time though.

“Tell me you are not actually planing to ask the Stark child to marry you.”

“I thought when I got back, it just seemed like the right thing to do, you know?”

“You do realize you are going to scare him to death, don’t you?” 

Steve shook his head surely.“I know he feels the same.”

“He is seventeen, no one knows what they feel at that age.” She took a steadying breath and began to talk slowly, like she was instructing a child. Steve really hated it when people did that with him. “People don’t rush out to get married anymore. Most people have other things in their life, school or work, and if they do find someone they wait and--get to know each other I suppose—and, look, I am really the last person on earth that should be giving you advice on this sort of thing. I don’t _do_ this.”

“I just don’t see why we should wait if we both know it’s right.” Steve stared at her with a sad earnest look. She leaned back again the boulder and shut her eyes with a loud sigh.

“Fine. Marry him. Adopt a dozen screeching infants. Knowing you it will just magically work out for the best somehow. You have the first watch shift.” 

 

\--

 

They were on their way again before the sun was up and making good time. The forest began to give way to grass and rock as they approached the mountains, which made the going a little easier but meant that they had lost their cover. They stuck to trees and shrubs as much as they could as they approached, Natasha now almost constantly checking for surveillance equipment around them, occasionally detecting interference and instructing Steve to alter their route.

They approached a long stretch of chain link fence with guard towers in the distance on ether side of a large gate. They were at just the right spot and only needed to get past the fence and a few scattered guards to get into base. Everything was going almost too smoothly, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise when the shadows appeared on the ground and engine noise filled the air. Flying personnel carriers were dropping dozens of Hydra agents on their heads and in a matter of seconds Captain America and Black Widow found themselves in a war zone.

“About time.” Widow smirked and lifted her arms, firing a spray of widow bites at the onrushing agents. “I was worried if nothing interesting came up today you were going to ask me to be your best man.”

“Don’t joke, Widow.” Steve moved so they were back to back against the crowd crushing in. He held up his shield, blocking a round of fire coming at them. The pair spun in sync and she blasted the other side while Cap defended her back. “I still might.”

She smiled and they broke, rushing into the throng of Hydra agents coming in on them. Widow fired rapidly with terrifying precision. Cap sent people flying left and right with great sweeps of his shield. 

After a while it stopped feeling like fighting and more like trying to swim against a current. Waves of Hydra agents came crashing against them and they would fall back, come together and surge again against the mass, gaining more ground than they lost and pressing ever onward, trying to break into the building that lay only yards ahead of them.

Steve pulled back and slugged a guy across the jaw hard enough to send him back into two of the guys behind him. He got ready to move forward again and fill in the gap he had made in the melee, but he glanced to check on his partner first. Natasha was moving through the crowd like liquid, flowing around strikes against her and sweeping around to take down one target after another. She looked like a dancer, like she ought to be doing this on a stage for a crowd dressed to the nines instead of at the bottom of the world surrounded by people trying to kill her.

He caught her eyes for a moment and then saw them go wide with shock; there was an arrow shaft sticking from her shoulder. She stared at it in disbelief for a fraction of a second and then turned to block a kick from yet another Hydra agent.

Steve rushed to her, ploughing through the crowd as fast as he could, shield held in front, throwing anything that blocked him out of his way.

He fell in on her left taking a defensive stance, protecting her injured side. Natasha sent out a spray with her good arm and used the time she bought to snap the head off the arrow and pull what was left out of her shoulder. She winced, bit her lip against a scream and growled out something in Russian, Steve didn’t know a whole lot but he knew it was something you shouldn’t say at the dinner table.

“We need to fall back, call for backup.” Natasha ignored him, looking around her, searching the sea of men in yellow and green. “Widow, listen we need to--”

“No, I need to find him,” she growled out in a tone that he didn’t want to argue with.

Another arrow came from the sky and just missed the mark, grazing Steve’s neck. Steve turned and saw an archer perched on the fence, an archer with arrows that pierced two layers of Kevlar and a dead distant look in his eyes.

“You know him?” Steve looked at Natasha and the anger in her eyes that only came form something personal.

“Hawkeye, ex-partner. Looks like he was a little more upset with me than I guessed.” Steve looked at him again. Something didn’t feel right. The way he moved was too sluggish for the skill he showed with his weapon.

Steve didn’t have much longer to think on it. A white hot energy crackled around him and through his body, turning each of his nerves into a burning ribbon of agony. Before he had to close his eyes against the pain he saw the form of a woman in a bright red and yellow body suit and mask, black hair flowing out behind her face as she glided to the ground. She twisted her fingers and the energy that poured out from them, making the pain in Steve’s body twist in answer like a million angry daggers.

Then Steve was able to breathe again. His eyes snapped open and there was Natasha, sweating and screaming, looking more unravelled than he had ever seen her, firing at the woman who had attacked him. The woman in red faltered; her concentration snapped. Steve saw his chance and rushed at her. He dodged an arrow to his left-right-right-left and then slammed his shield into the woman. She flew back but managed to get on her feet in impressive time.

“Captain America, this is an honor. My first mission and I get to take out the worst that the SHIELD dictators have to offer.”

“Sorry to disappoint but you’re not the first to try.” Steve noticed that the crowd had drained away, leaving the four to square off. Beside him Nat faced down her old partner; she had knocked him from his spot on the fence and they were now scrapping on the ground. Black Widow was fast but Hawkeye was merciless, his face hard and impassive as he struck a blow to her face and sent her to the ground.

He held his boot to her neck and Steve tried to run to her but the woman in red brought him to his knees again. It hurt too damn much; his legs wouldn't respond no matter how much he screamed for them to.

Then there was another scream over his own, high-pitched, and he thought of Natasha, but he opened his eyes and saw the woman in red knocked back with a blast of blue light.

“Help your friend. I got this one,” called the digitized voice of the Iron Man suit, and Steve thanked God for the timing of the man inside it. 

He ran to Natasha and shoved Hawkeye from her with a full body tackle. They hit the ground and something crunched under them. Steve pulled back a fist, ready to strike, but stopped when he saw the man beneath him blink his eyes open as if just waking from a dream and stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my God, it’s Captain America. Captain America is hitting me.”

Steve lowered his hand, eased off fractionally, and Hawkeye reached behind his neck to pull out the broken pieces of a controller disk. He held it up as evidence to Steve, who nodded and helped the archer to his feet.

Hawkeye smiled for a moment and was about to open his mouth when he saw Natasha laying in the grass. He ran for her and Steve followed right on his heels. Hawkeye knelt down and lifted her gently into his arms. “Natasha, Natasha I’m sorry, Tasha, come on baby, say something.”

For a horrible moment she lay still as death and they feared that was the case, but then she shook and choked loudly and somehow, by pure virtue of her just being her, managed to look up at the man who held her with perfect exasperation. “Stop apologizing, Clint, you’re embarrassing yourself.” She coughed and looked only more annoyed for it. “Let’s just say we are even now.” 

Overhead the fight raged on, the air crackling with repulsor blasts and the strange energy that the woman in red was flinging from her hands. Cap watched them fight and timed his strike. He let his shield fly and watched it hit right on course. She was knocked out, and Iron Man caught her as she flew from the sky and laid her out on the ground.

“Turn her over,” Cap ordered, and Iron Man complied. Steve moved her hair aside and found nothing. He frowned and turned the woman face up once again.

“No, she one of them through and through,” came Hawkeye’s voice from behind. “Hydra poster girl calls herself Arachne. They let her use me for target practice before sticking that thing in my head. She called me evil capitalist scum and other colorful things, also hit me a lot. We’re not friends.”

“She SHIELD’s now.” Natasha looked down at her with a twitch that could have been sympathy.

“Hey, reunion time!” Hawkeye grinned as he looked at the gathered crowd. “Shell Head, what’s new? Widow, you work with Captain America now? Talk about trading up. You think you could get me a job?” She cocked an eyebrow and Steve smiled, then turned to Iron Man.

“Thanks again. You seem to be making a habit of showing up at the right time.”

“Only following your lead, Cap. You saved me first.” The faceplate gave away nothing of the man inside and Steve couldn’t help but wonder at what sort of person he was. Certainly a good one if nothing else. Steve smiled broadly.

“As much I hate break up male bonding hour,” Black Widow broke in, “there are a couple dozen people on a slow approach from the gate.”

“Looks the same as crowd at the docks. Same energy signature.” Steve nodded and turned to look at the people shambling towards them like the walking dead, he supposed in a way they were. They would be in firing range soon. “I’ve got this,” Iron Man said and posed to take flight, but Steve put a hand on his shoulder. He remembered the night on the docks, pulling this man out of the wreckage; even though the suit Steve could tell that he had been shaken. Iron Man stopped and turned to face him.

“I built a device into the suit that should not only disable the control mechanism but allow the affected people to recover. It’s all impressively complicated and it’ll be faster to just demonstrate. You can all watch me amaze you from back here.” The face plate looked so stern and the armor so impressive that for a moment Steve almost consented, but there was a person in there and he wouldn’t send anyone out alone.

“We go together.”

“You don’t need to--” He began to protest. 

“No I don’t, but I will. You can go in from the air and give it a go, but I want to be right behind you if anything goes wrong. Widow, stealth went out the window a while ago; radio for SHIELD to come pick that one up.” He thumbed over his shoulder at the Hydra agent Arachne. “Clint, you stay back and guard her.”

“Aw. man. I don’t get to fight the super laser zombies?” Clint whined and Steve gave him a look of mock sympathy.

“Well, solder, if you don’t think that you can give us support from back here then you can move up to where you _can_ hit your targets from.” Clint was stunned and Natasha might have had to stifle a laugh.

“Um, no, here is fine--Captain.”

“All right, Iron Man. You’re on point. Let's go.” 

“Since you asked so nicely, Cap.” The voice from the machine managed to sound sarcastic and Steve watched as a blast of boot jets took him into the sky. He turned to Widow, looking at her hastily bandaged shoulder.

“Are you good?” She gave him a nod and they took off running behind Iron Man.

\---

Tony approached slowly, running the boot-up sequence for the shatter pulse. It had been a scramble to adapt the system for his suit. The range wasn’t anything like as good as it would have been with Pepper’s which he spent days tailoring to this system; he would have to get in close, maybe do a couple sweeps.

Ether way, he felt a hell of a lot better for having Captain America behind him. 

“I’m in range.” Tony took the liberty of tapping into their communications channel.

“Iron Man?” came back a questioning voice. It sounded strangely familiar, but Tony had too much going on to dwell on it. 

“One and only. Let’s get this done.”

Tony released the pulse and the air around the Iron Man suit vibrated and twisted with visible sound. It spread out around him in a great sphere and enveloped five of the people on the ground. It’s working, Tony thought, feeling great relief overtake him--only to watch as the pulse stopped expanding and dissipated into nothing, leaving the rest on the ground unaffected. He watched as the people he hit stopped, the red glow fading from their eyes, and fell to the ground as though they had fallen asleep on the spot. That was a good enough test run for him.

“Stay back, I need to charge up for another pulse,” Iron Man reported to Captain America below. He confirmed and Tony flew out of range again, preparing to make another sweep. If he came in close next time, put himself right in the middle of them, he could hit them all with one last go and still have enough power to get home.`

The HUD reported that they were ready for another run and Tony flew down straight into the heart of the crowd. As he had guessed, their reaction time was slow and not a shot was fired before he was standing dead center and--

Nothing.

“Fire pulse. Now. Come on!” He tried again. And again. The boot cycle was stuck in a loop. The human weapons were bearing down on him, soul-less eyes and mouths full of glowing red light, flames of the biological furnaces they had become.

“Force fields, full strength, _now_!” Tony shouted, activating the command. The dome of energy came out around him, throwing the people clear, in a ring on their backs. Iron Man blasted off only to be struck and knocked out of the sky. He hit the ground hard--and the boulder in the distance even harder--when another shot sent him skidding across the ground like a stone on a pond. 

Tony groaned in pain and tried to get back on his feet. The shield blast took a lot of power and having his ass thoroughly kicked didn’t help matters. 

“Backup’s coming,” he heard a voice coming through over the comm.

“Good. Ow. Thanks. Remind me not to argue with you again,” Tony replied letting his head thunk down before giving standing another go.

“Don’t worry, I will.” He could hear the smile in Cap's voice and only wanted to punch him a little.

Cap and Black Widow moved in on the weapons. Cap’s shield was able to deflect the beams so he edged forward in a defensive stance, Widow hanging in his wake. At intervals arrows would sing through the air and find their mark, disabling one of the crowd. One by one the three swept through and subdued them all to a man.

By the time Tony was back on his feet they looked like they had the situation handled, like the consummate professionals that he supposed that they were. He took a boosted leap over to them and looked over the people unconscious on the ground. Captain America walked over to join him.

“You think you can help the rest of them now that the heat is off?”

“I should be able to, if I can--” Tony’s sensors zeroed in on the sudden motion of Black Widow doubling over and falling to the ground. Before he could act Cap was at her side. There was an energy spike in her body and he knew what it had to be. 

“Cap, get away from her. She's changing.”

“Changing?” Cap was kneeling in front of her, trying to get her to open her eyes, hands on her shoulders. Then she looked up and Cap’s face fell. Her irises began to shine with the unnatural red of the human weapons.

“How?” Cap asked, not taking his eyes off her.

“Nanites in the blood stream. She must have gotten hit with something, dart gun maybe. Anything that broke the skin could have introduced it to her system.”

“No, how do we help her?” No, of course. That he didn’t know. 

“I need to do a little troubleshooting. But she has time. The change, it shouldn’t happen that quickly, and if I can reverse it soon there won’t be any lasting damage.” Tony watched Captain America; the man made an unconscious move and touched a rip at the neck of his suit. Hawkeye. Arrow. That would have done it.

“We should get somewhere safe before they regroup. I won’t be able to do anything if--”

The HUD lit up like Christmas. Bodies were pouring out of the Hydra base by the score, massing into an army. Tony looked to Captain America, who still knelt by Black Widow, holding her half-conscious body. He laid her gently on the ground and went on the comm, calling Hawkeye to get her and the prisoner to a safe location. 

“Sandhurst is in the building. If we stop him, we cut off the head.”

“Don’t have to fight them, only have to get past them.”

“Got it. Can I count on you for air support?” Ten percent battery left. Pepper hated him; Rhodey would be better off without him. Steve was probably somewhere in that horrible seething crowd of lost souls, good as dead unless Tony could stop this, and if these walking bioweapons got out in to the world, SI making a couple of bombs would be the last of anyone's worries. It felt about the right time for a blaze of glory.

“I’ll give you everything I got, Cap.”

Iron Man was in the air just out of range of the army of human weapons, swooping down to fire force field blasts in front of Cap, clearing a path, when the swarm of bodies clustered to thickly surround him.

Seven percent; they were at the gate. Iron Man blasted the guard tower and Captain America ran though without having to slow. 

Six point five percent. They cleared their way through to the other side of the mindless army. Tony hung back, keeping them at bay with one hand and blasting the door open for Cap with the other. Five point five.

Hyrda agents poured out at Cap and Tony watched from above as he ran through the crowd, the scene almost comical from a distance. He flew in after him, joining him on the ground. Four percent. He’d best stay out of the air now.

The HUD flashed an alert. Source of signal found. The Controller was four floors up; Iron Man had a lock on the room. Senors were constructing a map of the building. Tony defended against Hydra agents rushing him as he tried to calculate the best route. Behind them the swarm had recovered ground and were coming in range again.

To hell with it.

“Head down! Shield up!” Iron Man called out and Cap did just as warned without hesitation. Tony blasted the ceiling, clearing a hole that went straight up five floors. He ran over to Cap who grabbed hold without instruction and Tony flew them up through the dust and falling debris to the floor where the Controller's lab waited.

Two percent.

The large room was cast in a red light, the same eerie glow from within the human weapons. Along the walls there were people upright docked into chambers, wires running from their bodies. The room was wet and reeking, full of the heavy breath of the bodies that looked to be sleeping.

“Welcome.” The voice came from dozens of mouths. The people in the walls spoke for the man who reclined on a throne of cables and machinery. It was Sandhurst, but not the man Tony knew. His skin was grey, face drawn, his mouth thin and heavily lined and his eyes burned with the same dull red that saturated the room. 

“Once again you and SHIELD have come to thwart me,” chorused the voices around them, “but it is hopeless endeavor. I have transcended, and I am unstoppable. My children and I are one. Their minds and their energy nourish me, and I, their king, their master, their Controller shall rule all.” The Controller’s before-motionless mouth curled into a cruel smile. 

“How did you do this? _Why_ would you do this?” Tony demanded. 

“Because of _you_ , Iron Man. You ruined everything. I left AIM in disgrace; I had nothing. Hydra wanted an army, and they had the resources, the funds, the connections. So I became their army, me and these useless castaways, these unwanted people with no food or land. I took them into myself. Now we are one. And you, you will join us. You both shall have a place in me.”

All around them the eyes of the controlled opened, shining their burning light.

One point seven percent.

“Cap. Do it.” Without waiting for response Tony started blasting them back, force fields holding them against the walls.

The Controller rose from the chair to try and defend himself, but Captain America was on him. A hard left put him back down into his place. Cap reached up and pulled masses of cords from his headgear, wrenching them from the equipment. The monster of a man bellowed in pain.

“My children! My power!” The people in the chambers screamed with him; the fires within them blazed behind the force fields and then hissed and faded into nothing as the bodies slumped back down lifelessly. The Controller joined them in the dark.

Tony didn’t have the luxury of enjoying the victory; the HUD showed more coming. The swarm outside had not been affected the way the people with a direct link had been.

“They're still coming,” he warned Captain America. “The last order can’t be canceled. If--if I had more I could--” The suit collapsed, its energy reserves depleted. Iron Man would go no further. Tony could do no more.

Cap was at his side again, kneeling by him, looking down at the faceplate of the suit.

“Tell me how to stop it,” he urged. Tony’s mind raced. There was nothing, nothing that wouldn’t take time or power that they just didn’t have.

 _Backup reserves activated, 5 minutes of life support remaining. Seek assistance immediately,_ advised the systems. Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn’t it, Tony answered. Before they blinked out, the sensors informed him that a leather-gloved hand was holding the hand of the suit. He wished that he could feel the comfort of the contact. 

“Can’t. There’s not enough--” Processes were shutting down; the suit was going dark. “Not enough time, even for me. They won’t get far, after the base goes down. It will end here. At least I--I’m--” Static cut through his speech. The vocal processor was failing, visual was going out and he was damned if he was going to have this thing for a coffin. He lifted back the faceplate and was surprised to see the look of absolute horror in Cap’s eyes. 

“Tony?” he asked, sounding terrified and helpless, and then he knew. Captain America was pulling back the cowl, but Tony already knew.

“Hey, funny meting you here.” Tony half smiled. It was getting hard to keep his eyes open. Probably concussion. It wouldn't matter in a minute. Steve was okay, alive and well. Even better than well: he was Captain-expletive-withheld-for-respect-America. He was as good as they came.

“Don’t you dare make jokes now.”

“I’ll stop in a minute.”

“Don’t do that either.” Steve’s eyes might have been watering or it could just have been blurring of Tony's vision. 

“Sorry I couldn’t call.” Steve made a choked sound like a sob trying to be a laugh, trying to make this somehow normal. Make it okay. 

“Hey, you had stuff to do, I get that.” Tony’s vision rolled and shifted. He thought he was slipping under but he snapped back, forcing himself to stay awake. “You have to try and get out of here.”

“All right, how do I get you out of this thing?” Tony closed his eyes for a second, and knew it was a mistake because he just wanted to sleep, it was so nice and dark behind his eyes... 

“Tony. Stay with me.”

“No, just you, now. If you go now, you might have a chance.”

“Not happening.” Steve began to pull parts of the armor off. With the suit out of power and not locked down, he was able to slowly disassemble it. All the while Tony was begging him to just go. “I’ve almost got you, just--.” Steve suddenly winced and shut his eyes, clearly in pain.

“Steve, what is it?” Tony watched a hand go up to the scratch at his neck. Damn it.

“I thought it wasn’t affecting me because--”

“Yeah, I know.” The blue of Steve eyes was pricking with red, like cloth soaking up blood. It spread gradually, a horrible slow-motion version of the change they had seen in Black Widow. Tony reached out, his hand free of the armor, and touched Steve’s face, running a thumb over his frowning mouth.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Tony could hear bangs and kicks in the distance. The swarm was making its way up to them; they would be on them any moment. Worse ways to go out. Probably. 

Steve squeezed his hand and then moved away, hoisting his shield up. He was going to go down fighting. And just then, in a strange moment of clarity, Tony wondered how he couldn't have known before. Of course Steve was Captain America. He was perfect. There was no one else he could be, with his horrible taste in music and his terrible clothes and his stupid beautiful smile. Tony was so glad he got to know him, both of him, all of him.

Tony shut his eyes and began to drift off, but a sound rumbled in the distance, calling him back. It grew louder and louder until it was almost deafening. The whole base was shaking, breaking apart. The ceiling started coming down and in an instant Steve was standing over him, protecting them with his shield.

There was an almighty crash and they waited while everything went dark. 

When Steve was able to push the rubble off of them and the dust cleared away they could see clear out to the sky. The side of the mountain had been blasted away and in the air hovered a form. 

Tony blinked against the light. It was an armor suit, shining silver and red in the sun. It was small and sleek with feminine curves to the torso. The faceplate stared sternly down at them. 

“What is that?” Steve asked beside him and Tony began to laugh hysterically, overcome with relief. 

“Rescue.”


	9. Chapter 9

The official SHIELD report as filed by Capt. Rogers, post event, stated that the Hydra base as well as the army of the controlled was subdued by himself and Agent Romanoff with assistance from three unidentified civilians in armored suits of unknown origin.

Two enemy agents were taken into SHIELD custody. One, who gave his name as Clint Barton alias Hawkeye, claimed to have been under the influence of mind control and, after the initial attack, assisted Rogers and Romanoff in their mission. In light of his actions and two recommendations his application for SHIELD ops was currently under consideration. The other Hydra agent who intel indicated to be Jessica Drew was detained under the direct observation of Colonel Fury.

While many agents were taken in, none of the high ranking members of Hydra were recovered from the base. Additionally, there were no remains found that could be positively identified as belonging to Basil Sandhurst. His current status was officially listed as Unknown.

That was all of the information that Pepper could find in the SHIELD database, to which she was now was pretty sure she had full access. The fact that Steve hadn’t given Tony over to SHIELD put him ahead in Pepper’s book, but he had a way to go before he would be in the clear.

Going after Tony hadn’t been an easy decision.

Actually no, it was completely easy. Easiest decision she had ever made in her life. As soon as Rhodey let slip what he thought it was Tony had been working on, sixty foot tall rabid badgers couldn’t have kept her away from that lab.

What was hard was figuring out what she was going to say to Tony once she caught up to him. 'Sorry I said your weird illegal boyfriend was a spy' might have been a start, but she was totally right. He had been a spy. Sort of. Captain America or not, working for SHIELD made you close enough to a spy in Pepper’s book.

She had spent the rest of the night after walking out on Tony trying to find something to explain what was up with Steve, maybe even find him. Because, hey, can’t find a better peace offering than that, she figured. 

It was only out of boredom that she ended up poking around in the SHIELD database, testing to see how far her new clearance could get her. She was looking at personnel files when the though struck her to check if they had anything on Steve Rogers. And wow, that had been a surprise.

Rhodey didn’t even care that she had called him at 3 AM to let him know. Because, hello, that sort of news doesn’t wait for sunup. 

She had tried to get a hold of Tony first, naturally, but he was gone and she didn’t need more than one guess to figure out where he was. There was really something about the whole _Team_ Iron Man thing that he just wasn’t getting. She was going to have to make him flashcards one of these days. 

Pepper and Rhodey got full access to the lab using the emergency protocols Tony had set up for them in case anything happened to him, and once inside they got on the computer and found the rundown on Pepper’s suit. It was built for defense mostly, that was obvious from the specs, but she was fast and had force fields ten times better than Iron Man's. It was everything Tony needed on the docks that night to stop those people without killing them. 

And the idiot had left without it. 

She was still angry at him. Really, really angry. But also kinda sorry. And none of that mattered anyway, because Tony needed their help, so Pepper and Rhodey were suited up and en route before sunup.

Pepper took to it instantly, like she was born to it. Or maybe like she had been sneaking out with Rhodey for practice runs in War Machine. Tony didn’t need to know. Ether way, she was _good_.

As much as Tony liked to make everything that he worked on sound totally impenetrable, Pepper was able to figure out the ins and outs of the shatter pulse and the rest of the new equipment on the flight down to Argentina. Well, okay it’s not like she could have built it. Or even really told you how it worked. But she couldn’t tell you how her phone worked either, and yet the bill her dad got every month stood in testament to her ability to figure that one out. And the HUD interface did most of the work anyway.

The flight there had been amazing, exhilarating. The aerial view of the equatorial countries and the lush green rainforests they sailed over on the way down was breathtaking in a way that managed to actually leave her speechless, a rare thing. But it happened again when they approached Iron Man’s location.

The shuffling mass of people pouring into the base carved into the mountain, it was horrible-- they way the moved, limp and soulless, the gleaming eye’s and mouths full of light. She finally understood why that first night had shaken Tony so badly.

The plan wasn’t complicated. It didn’t need to be. She set off the pulse and Rhodey blew a hole in the mountain. The important thing was that it looked incredibly impressive.

And of course, that they had been in time to save Tony. Obviously. But if a girl was gonna fly halfway around the world to save her idiot genius best friend, it didn't _hurt_ to make a good show of it.

They flew Tony immediately to the most discreet hospital that his money could pay for and left him in the care of Doctor Yinsen. This would be the third time the doctor had patched Tony up without asking any questions, and it was getting to the point where Pepper had to wonder if deep down he knew what Tony was doing.

\---

Pepper found Steve in the waiting room of the hospital the next day when she went to visit Tony; he was sitting in a plastic chair three sizes too small for him, a brightly-colored bunch of flowers held in his lap, broad shoulders slumped and his mouth stuck in a worried pout. He looked like an overgrown puppy, and for a moment Pepper just stared, trying to reconcile the man see was looking at and the man in the old comics at home on her dad’s bookshelf.

Steve looked up at her, waved and gave a little smile, startling her out of her thoughts. She gave him a glare and he shrunk slightly into his chair, as best as his large frame could manage. Yeah, that’s right buddy, not so tough without your shield. She sniffed and walked over, staring him down with her hands on her hips.

He looked up at her and offered a “Hi, Miss Potts” that sounded full of infinite hope. 

“What do you want with him?” she accused him directly. No point in dancing around it. She knew he worked for SHIELD. He could be as much of an American icon as he liked, she knew what SHIELD was about. She might want to work for them, but she wasn’t on the payroll yet and she didn’t have to be nice about it when one of them was using her friend. 

“I’m sorry?”

“You will be. I don’t care who you are _Captain_ Rogers, Tony is my friend and I’m not going to let you hurt him.” He looked more confused than anything. Also a little hurt. That was just annoying.

“Trust me, that is the last thing that I want.” Yeah, that’s probably what they taught him to say in spy school. Pepper’s mind wandered down a wistful tangent about actually going to spy school and how completely awesome that would be, but she quickly snapped her focus back on to Mr. SHIELD-- agent--America--jerk--guy.

“Really,” Steve stood and Pepper was forced to look up to keep eye contact, “I promise I have nothing but the most honorable intentions. I know things went a bit fast between us, but I have every intention of asking him to marry me.” He looked so stalwart and true and--

“What the hell?” Steve blinked as Pepper goggled up at him. 

“I was going to ask Tony--”

“No. No stop, I heard you.” Pepper didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or sob. “I thought that you were spying on him or, you know,” she gave a nurse walking by a glance as she walked by, “his after school activities.”

“Oh.” Steve cheeks colored slightly and as much as she wished she didn’t see it, it was disgustingly adorable. 

“Right, that is like the worst idea ever, but I take it that means you weren’t just sleeping with him to get his secrets for your bosses?”

“No!” Steve protested, clearly offended. “Absolutely not. I love Tony. I can’t imagine the rest of my life without him.” Pepper looked up at him, and couldn't help the perplexed look from taking over her face.

“Really?”

“Yes! Why is that so hard to believe? He's a great guy.”

“Well, yeah, he is, but--” Seriously? How could anyone think that sounded like a good plan? She thought this guy was supposed to be a strategic genius. Maybe it didn’t carry over off the battlefield. 

He was still looking at her and she realized she had just trailed off. 

“Aren’t you like ninety or something? I mean, it was creepy enough when you were just his--”

“I’ve only been awake for twenty three years.”

“How’s that work?”

“Twenty two before. One after,” he said, as though that explained anything.

“Yeah, still, seriously, don’t ask him.”

Before Steve could respond a nurse approached the both of them to let them know that Tony was able to see visitors and offered to walk them up to his room. Steve thanked her and said he would be fine, smiling at her charmingly. Pepper quickly added that she was also fine, just, you know, in case anyone wondered. The nurse looked over the two of them and shook her head before walking away.

They found Tony’s room number without any trouble and saw from the little rectangle of window that he was not only awake but sitting up with a tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Close to the door she could hear the muffled sound of the horrible thundering excuse for music Tony liked to listen to when he was working.

Pepper smiled in spite of herself. She had saved him, and she couldn't help feeling an overwhelming sense of pride in that. Even if he was impossible and a jerk and an idiot about anything that you couldn’t program, he had made her her suit and for that she figured that it might be worth keeping him around. 

She looked up at Steve and the big dopey smile on his face as he looked at Tony. It was still a really horrible idea, the two of them, but she could see the deep affection in his eyes, the sort of thing even she had trouble doubting. 

“Go on.” Steve stared down, looking at her questioningly. She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, making a display of it all. “He’s just going to get annoyed if I keep you guys from reunion makeouts or whatever. I can yell at him for being a reckless idiot and flying off without me later, it'll keep.”

Steve nodded and smiled his best Captain Smile. “Thank you Pepper. If you want I’ll yell at him a little for you. He’s not the only one who owes you for the save back there. It was good work.”

All right, maybe he could stay.

Steve walked into the room and she watched from out of sight as Tony’s face lit up with a smile when he saw him. The music shut off before the door had even closed. Pepper stood outside, compelled by curiosity to linger for just a moment. They spoke for awhile, Steve simply holding Tony’s hand him his own, and she wished that she was better at lipreading because they could have been confessing their undying love to each other or talking about olives. 

Steps behind her made Pepper jump. She had an apology at the ready for the nurse she assumed was approaching, but swallowed whatever she had planned to say when she saw the tall, imposing figure of Colonel Fury observing her with what almost looked like a half-smile.

“Oh my god. Um. Oh my god!” Pepper’s mind raced, torn between fear of Fury having found out about the liberties she had been taking with the SHIELD data-base, and the deep and all-consuming need to give him a résumé. 

“'Colonel' will do, Miss Potts.” Words, she knew she should be saying some words now. Maybe she had just used them all up, maybe everyone only got allotted so many and she just ran out at the worst possible moment.

“Yes. Colonel Fury. Director of-” she looked around theatrically, “well, you know.”

“Yes, Miss Potts, I do know. The matter I am concerned with today is that you seem to as well.” 

Crap.

“Um. Well. It was, like, I was just, um, looking around on my dad’s-- not that my dad had anything to do with this--no, he didn’t know. There was nothing to know. It was an accident and I swear I won’t to it again and please don’t send me to jail. I’m not a super-villain, I swear. I-- I--” 

“Miss Potts.” Pepper instantly snapped out of her bout of hysteria.

“Yes?”

“I heard from a former teacher of yours that you might be interested in our summer program.”

Oh yeah, Steve could stay.


	10. Epilogue

Months later.

Steve made his way up through the labyrinthine building that was Stark Tower. When Tony had first given him the grand tour, not long after the company passed into his hands, it seemed like a friendly place, despite the imposingly sleek and modern architecture. Nowadays, for Steve, the place had become familiar but with the ever changing and reorganization of departments just trying to find his way from the lobby to wherever Tony happened to be was a disorienting mission. He had memorized a route to the R&D lab but today Tony was actually in his office, a path Steve was less familiar with.

When he did make his way to the large, imposing glass doors, the girl at reception waved him right in with a ‘Good morning Mr. Rogers’ and a sweet smile. Tony didn’t receive him quite so warmly. Tony almost always looked a little tired, no doubt because he usually was--how the guy managed to stay alive and alert on his chaotic sleep schedule was beyond Steve--but he seemed worse today than usual. He didn’t even look up at the sound of the doors opening.

“Hey Tony.” Steve smiled in greeting as he traversed the large office, filled with chrome and glass and dark leather. Steve walked around the large desk--which would have been very imposing to anyone else--and leaned back on it beside Tony’s chair.

“Tell me you’re here to rescue me. Please.” Tony let his face fall into his hands for a moment.

“For an hour, at least.” Steve held up a shopping bag that had been filled with sandwiches and snacks. Steve rubbed the back of Tony’s neck gently and he almost purred under the touch, melting forward onto his desk until he was comically splayed out on it.

“I love you, you know that right? And not just for food and sex but all the other stuff too,” he mumbled into a pile of paperwork--actual paper too, and Steve had been through the rant about how much of a waste Tony thought that was, so he knew he would be doubly annoyed.

“So what’s the matter today?” Steve began to unpack the lunch he had brought and set it out on the desk.

“Everything? Is that not—no, you probably want more specifics. No--still everything.”

“So what are you doing to fix everything?” Steve asked, voice calm and almost melodic as he placed a sandwich and a cup of fruit in front of one of the most economically powerful men in the world.

“Lawyers. Lots and lots of them. I’m just---” He took a deep breath and Steve settled in for a long one. “When Obidiah was ruining the company, before I got it back, he got SI into dozens of contracts that I am having nothing to do with. Arms mostly, somethings just skirting the edge of legality but sold to people he knew would weaponize them in a heartbeat, some to countries at war with each other. Each of them trying to edge out the other like some kind of fucking--sorry--some kind of auction.”

“So you are backing out.”

“Yes I am.”

“So lawyers.”

“Lots and lots of lawyers. I swear, my gratitude for Rhodey's mom in the last few weeks has gone beyond what could ever be expressed in a fruit basket. I think when this is all over I’ll just buy her an orchard.”

“Does she want an orchard?”

“I--no, probably not. I’ll think of something else.”

“You can think about eating the sandwich first.” Tony nodded and dug into the lunch Steve had brought him.

Steve half-sat on the desk as they ate and talked idly about this and that: how he didn’t think that he was going to be able to finish out the semester at art school because of how his _other_ job was picking up, and how the apartments Tony had sent him to look at for them were all much too big--honestly, why would one couple need seven bedrooms? Tony had laughed at that and shook his head, promising to tell his realtor to think a little more conservatively with the next list. 

Steve tried as best he could these days to take Tony’s mind off the myriad of problems that had fallen in to his lap with the company. He remembered celebrating with Tony on his birthday; turning eighteen was a big landmark for anyone, but for Tony it meant taking the reins of Stark International and taking on the mantle of his late father. Making sure that the power that he had in the world would be used for the betterment of mankind. 

It was a lot to put on a young man, but Tony had been rising to the challenge with the brilliance that he applied to everything he truly cared about, throwing himself fully into it and demanding the best of himself. Only now he was spread more thinly than ever and it made Steve worry for his health and sanity, both categories which Tony would be the first to admit he wasn’t exactly blessed in.

Still, through it all, Steve had plans to propose, and all the people he encountered who assured him it was the worst idea ever did little more than steel his resolve on the matter. The thing that had him tripped up was the timing. 

Tony being Tony, was always busy, and so was Steve. Somehow they had managed to skip any sort of courtship altogether and go right to the kisses on the check as the other was running out the door and falling asleep together at the end of exhausting days part of the relationship. Not that they didn’t have fun, but the idea of romance as Steve had always imagined it, with flowers and slow dances and candle-lit dinners, had been eclipsed by something warm and comfortable and far more realistic.

Sure, there were the movie nights cuddled up on the sofa, the three-AMafterEarthsaving dinner dates, the baseball games that Tony mostly slept through, the events Tony had to show his face at that Steve wished he could sleep through, and all the nights they spent in bed together holding on to each other like there was no tomorrow--because with their line of work you couldn’t always count on one. But for all that composted a perfect life, there was never a moment that felt quite important or romantic or just big enough to ask Tony to make it all official.

Even moving in together had just been an issue of practicality. Tony, sick of having to go between two homes and work and the lab, just declared one day that he lived there now and flopped onto the sofa, taking no argument. Steve wouldn’t have thought to make one anyway.

But it was okay, and Steve had come to accept the fact that living together wouldn’t change that much between them anyway. He didn't mind letting go of some old-fashioned ideas, so long as he hung onto the ones worth keeping. Like standing up in front of your friends and family and promising the one you loved that you would love them forever.

“Hey, Captain Steve, where'd you go?” Tony’s question made Steve realize that he had just been staring silently at nothing for about a minute.

“Still here. Just had a long one last night.”

“Yeah, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Doombots.”

“Shoulda called.”

“You had a 7 AM meeting. I’m not a sadist.”

“Well, there was that one time...”

“Tony,” Steve warned, and Tony laughed, tired but happy. He rested his head on Steve’s thigh and sighed. Then he looked up as if suddenly realizing where he was and gave Steve a lascivious little smirk.

“Say, uh, you wanna maybe scoot over a little?” 

“You have glass walls.” Steve said firmly. Tony tapped a control panel on his desk and the walls faded to an opaque gray.

“You were saying?” Steve just stared down at him, trying not to let him see just how much he enjoyed it when Tony was completely irrepressible.

“You are horrible.” Tony grinned as Steve scooted over on the desk and Tony pushed his shirt up to kiss his stomach.

\---

Some time latter, Steve lay on top of Tony desk with Tony on top of him, using Steve as a mattress. Both were in a state of undress that was certainly not appropriate for an office setting, and both were too content to really be bothered by it. Tony was babbling about some circuitry pattern that Steve didn’t really understand, but he sounded very happy and that was probably all that mattered. Then out of nowhere:

“We should get married.”

“What?” And that was all Steve’s brain or mouth could manage.

“No, really. I mean, it’s what you do, right? And then I could justify taking time off for a honeymoon. They would have to let me go for that.” Tony laughed easily and Steve still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Once it sunk in it was even worse.

“So, you want to use it as an excuse for a vacation?” Steve was a little heartsick. This was exactly everything that he didn’t want this moment to be.

“Ah, no, shit, that didn’t come out right.” Tony pushed himself up and looked down at Steve. “But the new apartment got me thinking, and everything with the company I’ve been dealing with, and if we were married and anything happened to me it all would go to you--SI, the money, the houses, the charities--and I trust you, I trust you more than anyone else. And I could just name you in my will or something, but I would rather have a wedding and then a vacation than go sit in an office and think about dying for a few hours. I do that enough, it’s not fun. Also, you know, I love you and want you hanging around me forever, but I figured that was a given.”

Steve gaped at Tony for a moment to blinked down at him with a confused twist to his mouth until the shock finally cleared and Steve threw his arms around Tony, only just remembering not to crush him completely.

“Is broken-rib old-timey person for yes?” Steve laughed.

“Yes, it is. But we can just go with bruising for now.”

“Good, ow, can I have air again yet?” Steve held on a second longer and then finally eased off his grip, but still kept his arms around Tony. Tony made a show of gasping and then smiled. “I want to do the paperwork end sooner rather than later, but the party parts, that can be whenever. Your call there, just let me--”

A digital chime came from nowhere and everywhere, cutting Tony off. 

“What is it?” Tony answered the air. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“I assumed, Mr. Stark. I’ve also taken the liberty of calling about getting your office soundproofed, if you don’t mind my taking the initiative.”

“No, right, good call there. Sorry about that,” Tony said the last part both to the girl outside and to Steve, who was turning red under him and trying to squirm his way off the desk and back into his trousers. Tony let him up and started to pull his own clothes back on as he asked, “So what’s so important that we all get to be embarrassed?”

“Perhaps you would like to come out of your office, it’s a sensitive matter and--”

“Right, right. Give me a minute.”

In the promised minute Tony emerged, dressed and presentable, with a hotly blushing Steve in his wake.

“So?” he asked, not without a little annoyance in his voice.

The secretary’s eyes flitted up to Steve’s for a moment and his fixed squarely on his own shoes, but he was unable to keep from smiling. She pulled up a file and handed it to Tony.

“Great, more paper, you know you could just--” Tony went pale and Steve stepped in close behind him, steadying him with a hand on the shoulder. He stayed still under Steve’s palm, and then when the touch seemed to finally register, Tony leaned his weight back against him.

“An archeological team funded by one of the academic charities found this last night in a ruin they were excavating. They sent it along as fast as they could. They thought you would want to see.”

“Yes.” Tony’s voice was distant and automatic. “Yes, that’s right. Thank you. Them, thank them for me.”

Tony turned and walked back into his office without another word. Steve looked at the secretary who gave him a strained smile before he turned to follow. “Tony, what is it?” Steve kept his voice firm and even. 

“My Dad,” Tony sat heavily in his chair and pushed the file across the table to Steve. “My dad is alive.”

“How is that possible?” Steve looked through the pictures in the file: writing scratched out on the wall of some forgotten temple. A message to Tony.

“It’s a long story. Someone told me he was alive but I was so sure he was lying, he had lied about everything else, there was no reason to--but that means that all this time my dad has been waiting for me to find him, he might not even still be alive because I--” Steve was watching Tony slowly break apart in front of him, he couldn’t even imagine it. Mourning someone as close as Howard had been to Tony, working so hard to move on and then--There was no way he could have known, but Steve knew Tony, how he took everything on himself and wouldn’t stop blaming himself until his father was safe again.

Steve rounded the desk and put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Right, when do we leave?”

“You are so perfect. You know that? If I didn’t love you so much I’d hate you.” If he was making jokes again he would probably be okay. He wasn’t yet, but at least he'd worked through the shock. Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Hey, got to make a good impression on you father, figure this might be the best chance I get.” Tony made a weird sound that was between a sob and a laugh. “This is good, Tony, this is wonderful. We are going to find him, okay?”

“Yeah? Yeah. Right, you think you could talk your bosses into letting me borrow Pepper for a job she really won’t want to do while I work on a suit upgrade to bribe her with?” 

Steve smiled.“I think I can swing it.” 

“You are a wonder. If I hadn’t just asked you to marry me I’d do it again, Captain Stark.” Steve cocked an eyebrow.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Rogers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Sorry the last bit took so long. Real life got in the way of things but It's done at last.  
> There is a lead in for more which I'm sorry to say wont be coming any time soon but I loved this verse so much I wanted to leave myself with some threads to pick up in the future.
> 
> But for the moment you can imagine them adventuring off into the sunset together.
> 
> Thanks for reading and thanks for waiting, see you next time. :D


End file.
